Hear Me
by CodeVassie
Summary: Antonio and Lovino are trying their best to get by in high school, but between the stresses of grades, family, friends, and heartache, it's a lot harder than it looks. (warnings for parental dispute, panic attacks, brief hospital visit, and themes of anxiety, emotional abuse, trauma, grief, and death) [17/19]
1. Chapter 1

**_"Hear Me" by: Imagine Dragons_**

* * *

Antonio couldn't help watching the little digits countdown on his phone. It caused him to squirm each and every time, unable to hold still on the last minute remaining of the thirty he always set for his friend. It was their deal. Lovino got thirty minutes of study and Antonio got fifteen for himself. Sometimes during those thirty minutes, Antonio would help by quizzing or listening as the other boy read aloud, but mostly, like now, Lovino preferred solitary study.

Which left a restless Antonio to lay on his back and stare at the sky, trying (and failing) to keep his eyes off the clock.

 _00:20_

 _00:19_

 _00:18_

There was no pretense to the interest Antonio held in the stopwatch now and it was obvious Lovino could see it too. During these last seconds Lovino always seemed restless as well, but not for the same reasons as Antonio. While Antonio was practically bouncing for the time off of study, Lovino only grew more irritated as he sensed his study time was almost up. Antonio felt guilty for stressing his friend out like that, especially when it had taken a good deal of stubbornness that Antonio never knew he had and bribery to sway his friend into study breaks in the first place, but he never could suppress his excitement. He had never had a reason to hide positive emotions before anyway, so it would have done no good anyway to try.

 _00:06_

 _00:05_

 _00:04_

Antonio bit his lip as he peered up from his phone. He was on his belly, facing Lovino across the textbook that lay between them in the grass. The irritated Italian was staring determinedly at the extensive text in the book, eyes not taking in a word. He caught hazel eyes as they darted for their own peek at the clock. That little feeling entered Antonio's stomach again, the one he always got when he saw this look of panic his friend would have at the prospect of being dragged away from his work. He had to remind himself again that time away from the work, a second of relaxation, would do his friend good. When he could get Lovino to rest, to smile, to laugh, to drag his thoughts away from school, work, family, life, for two seconds, it was all worth these moments of guilt he felt for distressing in his friend.

A merry tune sounded from Antonio's phone. He knew better than to choose the same song more than once for the alarm because he was smart enough to know it would only condition his friend to see the song in a negative light. And, yes, Antonio could be _smart_.

Anyways, the song that played wasn't even relevant. What was relevant was how Antonio immediately snatched the textbook and snapped it closed. How he tossed it toward their bags which were tucked precariously on his side of the tree and how Lovino sat back with a sigh, resigned to his fate.

Antonio scrambled up, crossing his legs in front of him to face Lovino again, who was now leaning his back against the tree. He was already starting to settle - it was a good day. Some days it would take almost the whole break to get him to relax and sometimes it wouldn't happen at all. Things must have been pretty chill recently.

Lovino smirked at him. "So what is it today?"

Antonio's eyebrows stuck up, his own smile growing to mirror Lovino's despite his confusion. "Huh?"

"You know. That thing you've been doing." Lovino waved his hand as if to conjure the meaning of "that thing" in the air. "The coloring books. Meditation. The soundtrack of nature even though we're already outside. In nature."

"No, no, Lovi! Those sounds were way more nature-y! You just don't get the full experience in a public park!"

Lovino chuckled and leaned his head back. He looked tired. "You know what I mean, asshat."

Antonio's smile softened.

"So?"

Antonio looked up. "So?" He parroted.

"What's up with it all? Usually we just hang out and talk but now here you are bringing shit and planning." Antonio was silent for a time and Lovino rolled his eyes. "So, what is it today?"

Antonio took at Lovino's tired state. "I made a playlist. It was actually a lot of catchy stuff. You know, Taylor Swift, Mr. Brightside. That stuff people go crazy for. I think I'll play something else now that I think of it. Something more mellow."

Lovino looked at him for several long seconds, expression unreadable, before shrugging and looking away. "Alright."

"Don't think you've escaped my catchy playlist though." Antonio joked, "This is only a rain check." He whipped out his phone and scrolled to something light while Lovino muttered _Idiot_.

Antonio rolled onto his back and poked his friend in the side. "Come on. Let's watch the clouds."

Lovino's eyes fluttered open and Antonio could tell he had already been dozing. A flicker of worry appeared in Lovino's irises as he scooted down to lay beside him. "If I fall asleep you have to wake me up when the fifteen minutes are over."

"Nope. It'll be at least an hour." Antonio said lightly. The way he said it could be misconstrued for joking but in actuality he was completely serious.

"Twenty-five minutes." Lovino attempted to negotiate. Always so stubborn.

"Forty-five." Antonio shot back.

"Thirty."

"Thirty-five."

Lovino growled at the opposing stubbornness. If there was anything Antonio could out-stubborn the boy on, it was Lovino's wellbeing.

"Fine. But I won't be falling asleep."

They both knew that was a lie.

The sky that day was mostly covered in clouds, a wispy layer of white that let only the faintest traces of striking blue and sunlight through. Antonio found solace in them, letting his gaze wander over them like the sight before him was a magnificent painting in a museum. Somehow, no painting could capture nature at its most beautiful just as nature could not do a painting justice. The art forms were so different but both equally as beautiful.

Antonio never had any problem with relaxing. He took a siesta everyday, no matter how much he had on his to-do list. It was easy for Antonio to put himself before tasks like that because he knew his limitations. He was a good student, but the only times he found it worth his time to damn his limitations were when he thought he could help someone - especially those he cared about.

He had sacrificed his own homework on multiple occasions just to get Lovino to put his own down for two seconds. It wasn't the best way to handle it and Gilbert and Francis had told him time and time again how he could go too far when he wanted to help, but it was simply in Antonio's nature. What did homework matter when your best friend was working themselves into an early grave from the stress of their own?

Antonio didn't even realize how his tendencies were just as self-destructive as Lovino's.

They were opposite ends of the spectrum. Lovino worried too much and Antonio could barely worry at all. Well, that wasn't quite true either. It was more like… Lovino worried what others thought of him - people who didn't matter. His teachers. His father, the man who barely ever looked his way. Antonio cared for his friends almost to an extreme. They were the ones most important to his heart.

Antonio breathed slowly as he continued his search across the skies. Lovino's breathing was slow as well and Antonio turned his head to see that his friend had already fallen into a deep sleep. It was a wonder how Lovino could even function sometimes with how tired he was.

Antonio let Lovino sleep for over an hour.

-/-

 _The June when Antonio was ten all he wanted was to go back to California. The sun was different in New York. The streets were different. His friends were in California and so was most of his rather large family. And now the only solace to little fifth grader Carriedo was the new tire swing in his backyard, one in which he wasn't even allowed to play on until his parents deemed it 'sturdy'._

 _Meaning, all he was left to do in the summer heat was lay in the middle of his front yard and count how many birds fly overhead. It was better than doing anything in the backyard where the swing would only mock him, but now that he was watching what he thought were pheasants or something traverse the blue sky it only reminded him again that he was very very far away from home._

 _He missed the gulls he would see along the coast and the palm trees that sprouted along the sidewalks of little strip malls. He missed the suburban neighborhoods and ethnic restaurants and friendly people. Antonio was always a positive person, but after moving here (not even to the famous city parts of New York!) he was finding optimism a very difficult thing to achieve._

" _Ciao! You must be our new neighbor!" A cheery, high-pitched voice startled Antonio out of his brooding reverie. Antonio sat up, looking over the newcomer that stood off to his side. They had short hair and a dress and a notebook in hand._

" _Ciao?" Antonio wondered aloud, blinking up at the other._

 _They didn't seem abashed in the slightest at the confusion. In fact, the person just seemed more excited to share. "It's like 'hello'! Nonno says it's rude to speak Italian when people who can't speak it are around, but I always seem to find myself doing it anyway." They leaned forward then and whispered conspiratorially, "Between you and me, it's not all habit when I do it." They giggled and Antonio did so as well, though he wasn't quite sure why._

" _I'm Feliciano, by the way!" The amiable boy offered._

" _I'm Antonio." Antonio supplied himself. His parents had taught him manners, after all._

" _So what are you doing, Antonio? Aren't you bored sitting alone here?"_

 _Antonio laughed. Finally, a reason to laugh. He hadn't had many since the move. "More than you can imagine."_

" _Oh, I think I can imagine. I'm always on my own to play outside. Sometimes I draw or pick flowers and sometimes Lovino comes out too, but drawing and flowers can get old when you do it every day and Lovino barely gets to come out."_

" _Lovino?" Antonio asked._

 _Feliciano nodded enthusiastically. "My brother! Papà keeps him inside when he doesn't do his times tables. Lovino acts like it's because he doesn't want to do them, but I think he's afraid he'll get them wrong again. Not that I blame him. I'm not very good at times tables either."_

 _Feliciano said all of this as if it was normal as can be. Antonio's eyebrows scrunched as he tried to comprehend. "He keeps him inside all day?"_

 _Feliciano hummed. "Well… sometimes. Sometimes Lovino gets them wrong so he has to stay in until it's right. Sometimes Lovino just won't do it."_

 _Antonio thought of his own times tables. "I don't do times tables in the summer. Or homework at all. Is that what summer school is like?"_

 _Feliciano shrugged. "Lovino's not in summer school."_

 _Antonio nodded as if this answered everything. In fact, though, he was still very confused._

 _But just then his mother started calling for him to come in for lunch and he had to say goodbye to his new friend. Antonio scrambled into the house, ready for the grilled cheese his mother had cooked up, and forgot all about Feliciano and Lovino._

 _Though forgotten on that first day, the Vargas brothers were to be the subject of many more of Antonio's in his future in New York._

-/-

Lovino was angry with him for days after the napping incident. It turned out that he was not as stress-free as Antonio had thought. Perhaps it was the nap itself that gave him enough energy to wind himself up over the prolonged sleep session, but Antonio felt it was worth it. He'd rather his friend have enough energy to be mad at him than no energy for anything.

So mainly Antonio used up the time Lovino was ignoring him to neglect his own studies even more and Skype his friends back in California. It was honestly a miracle that he and his friends from _elementary school_ were still in touch, but seeing as how every Christmas the Fernandez-Carriedos visited family in California, he got to see them at least once a year. Now that they were older, they kept in touch throughout most of the year on their phones, internet, video calls.

"When we got four of those wadded up paper balls across the classroom at the same time, that's when the teacher finally noticed something was up." Gilbert was cackling at his own joke. Francis was rolling his eyes though unable to keep his own amused smirk at bay. Antonio laughed along, enjoying the company of his two friends. It had been too long since they had all three talked like this.

"So," Francis broke apart the manic laughter of his friend with a statement of their own, "Not to ruin the fun, but, as I recall, Christmas is coming soon. I _must_ know what to get you two." Antonio studied the settings behind either of them as Gilbert enthusiastically jumped into a list of items he wanted for the holiday.

First, Francis looked to be in his family's living room. A simple but fashionable place with cream walls and a leather couch. There was a tasteful picture of some countryside above Francis' head and the railing of the staircase was visible to his friend's right. Francis was sitting modestly but comfortably on the leather couch, computer resting on his lap and a finger twirling a lock of his silky blonde hair.

"Gilbird loves those grainy cookies you make too, cause obviously you're gonna give my awesome bird a gift too, right? And if you're baking, those cupcakes are the actual bomb. Just saying-"

Gilbert. He was obviously sitting in his own bedroom at the moment, going by the messy blankets and strewn pillows on the bed he was lounging on and the assortment of heavy rock band posters on his wall. There was a window behind him and Antonio could have sworn he saw the sliver of the green paint on his wall between some of the posters. He was animatedly talking to Francis through his laptop screen at the moment, laying on his side across his bed. He was gesturing with one arm, the other having been trapped under his body to keep it steady, and his wine red eyes were full of excitement.

"Goodness, _mon ami_ , how shall I ever keep track of this all when you are speaking so quickly?" Francis asked, bewildered, though Antonio would say not surprised at Gilbert's rapid fire dialogue.

"Keep track of what you can, Franny, and you can pick up the slack next year."

Francis scoffed and turned, as if he could ignore Gilbert in favor of Antonio even though the two were on the same screen. "Antonio, and you?"

"Oh gosh, Francis. You know I'm terrible at this stuff." Antonio scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. Francis waved it off.

"Nonsense. Just take your time and _don't_ let me know last minute like you did last year."

Antonio smiled guiltily at the screen, hoping his silent apology got through. After he had said sorry about one hundred and twenty times, Francis had finally made a rule against apologizing for it. And for many other things as well.

"Speaking of last minute, have you two started on finals study?" Francis gazed pointedly in the camera with a sceptical look. Antonio didn't even look to see Gilbert's reaction since he was busy avoiding Francis' stare and thus the computer screen, but knew it must have been along the same lines as his own when Francis began to scold them. Man, when had Francis cared so much for grades? Was this a recent development? Oh yeah… he wanted to get into Stanford, didn't he? It had been way too long since Antonio had talked to them, hadn't it?

Soon enough Antonio had checked out of the conversation and his thoughts started to wonder away. Study… he wondered if Lovino was studying. Probably. It was early finals season, the part that most people never paid attention to but Lovino most certainly did. It was 12:03 am according to his bedside clock so it was a safe bet that his friend was awake.

It's not like Lovino studied so excessively everyday. He had a job too, plus school during the day and a demanding family in the evenings. Students were busy creatures and it just so happened that Lovino couldn't find a way to balance it. He had convinced himself that the pressures of work and school outweighed his own needs. It was enough to make Antonio want to grab him by the shoulders, look him in the eyes, and say something perfectly sensical to snap him out of it. There were only two problems with that: one, Antonio didn't know the right words to do that and two, he wasn't even sure Lovino would listen.

"He's worrying about his boyfriend again." Gilbert's abrasive voice interrupted his thoughts and Antonio's eyes focused back on the screen. Francis had a soft, amused look on his face - the one he got when watching _le amour_ , as he called it. Gilbert had on a shit-eating grin.

Antonio blinked at the screen. "Huh?" He asked intelligently.

Francis' soft expression quickly turned into one of exasperation as he rolled his eyes. Gilbert laughed loudly and repeated himself. "Thinking about _Loviiii_?" He imitated what Antonio expected was a replication of his own voice on the last word. He blushed a little at the insinuation, then more at the correctness of it. He absently recalled how much more severe Lovino's blush would have been.

Thank God Francis was there. Not that he meant to shift the conversation from teasing, but an out is an out. "Please do not tell me the boy is working himself to the bone again. I do not think I can handle it in jeopardy to the dedication I put to my own studies and for my care of other people."

"He's always working himself like that." Antonio replied unhappily.

"I don't know how he does that shit." Gilbert said. "He must make some great fricking grades. Does he ever sleep?"

"When I make him. I'm actually in trouble right now for letting him sleep for too long the other day." Antonio replied. "And, I mean, I'm sure he gets at least a few hours at home. The naps at my place or the park aren't really enough for… you know… _living_."

"Dear God," Francis spoke, "You must knock some sense into him, Antonio. This has really gone too far."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" Antonio snapped. When the three-way call silenced, Antonio took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face. He glanced back up at the screen and gave a tired smile. "Sorry. I guess I'm a little tired myself."

Francis looked concerned but Gilbert did as Gilbert does and smoothed it all over. Thank God Gilbert was there. "Yeah, I bet! Isn't it like midnight over there?"

Antonio readily agreed. Francis spoke up. "Then you must get your own beauty sleep, mon ami. Do not allow us to keep you up."

"Yeah, I guess I'll get going then. I'll talk to you guys later?"

"You bet!" Gilbert replied, "Winter break is coming up. Then we can keep you up in person!" Gilbert laughed at that, the sound much like a chuckling snake in how similar to hissing it was.

"Alright then." Antonio chuckled as well and he was just about to end the call when Francis stopped him.

"Antonio."

A raised eyebrow. "Yeah, Francis?" Antonio wasn't so sure about this. That was Francis' serious voice. Trademarked and patented.

"I'm glad you're worrying about Lovino, but take care of yourself too, okay?" Francis said. "It'll do neither of you well for both of you to exhaust yourselves."

Antonio nodded and gave a cheery smile. "Of course! I am the definition of self-care, Francis!"

Francis looked amused but not entirely convinced at this. He said his farewells nonetheless and Antonio shut his computer, ready to collapse on his bed and pass out.

That was until he heard a light tapping at his window.

"Lovi!" Antonio immediately perked up, having seen the figure who stood outside the latched window and sprung up to throw it open.

"Uh, hey." Lovino said, shifting from one foot to the other beside the bush planted right outside Antonio's window. Antonio smiled, amused at how Lovino could act so unsure of himself even when they had been sneaking to one another's houses for years.

"Would you like to come in?" Antonio half asked, half teased. This resulted in the irritated glance Antonio had been striving for on the other boy's face.

"Just let me in." Lovino huffed and stomped up to the window. Antonio chuckled and stepped aside.

When Lovino was inside, under the brighter light cast by the lamp on Antonio's bedside table, Antonio noticed the dark circles under the boy's eyes. He also noticed that he hadn't brought any notebooks or textbooks with him. At least that was a relief.

"Trouble sleeping?" Antonio asked sympathetically. Lovino's frown deepened but he didn't snap at the question. Antonio wondered if he had been expecting it or if he was simply too tired.

Sometimes, this was what worried Antonio more. It was one thing when Lovino forced himself to stay awake, but a whole other when he simply couldn't sleep at all. There had been many a time when Lovino would come over and toss and turn for hours in the darkness.

So, instead of speaking anymore, Antonio simply ushered his friend to the bed and turned the lamp out. The bed was comfortable enough for the two of them to sleep at a safe distance, even as they had grown taller throughout the years they'd known each other. Antonio snuggled deeply into the covers in his large pajamas, which covered both his hands and feet as he liked in the winter weather. Beside him, Lovino laid as still as possible, body as rigid as a board. He faced the ceiling where, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Antonio saw Lovino's eyes were trained steadily.

Antonio could stay up a little longer if it was for Lovino's sake.

* * *

 _ **CV: Hey! If you're following any of my other stories, my deepest apologies they are not being updated. I have had a severe writer's block lately and this story was written for the reason to get me out of it. I will attend to others in due time. Thank you for your patience.**_

 _ **For everyone who has read, thank you so much! I hope you've liked the first chapter and I would much appreciate constructive criticism. I wasn't as hard with this fic as some of my other ones, but, like I said, it's purpose is to get me out of writer's block (so there might be grammar mistakes. please let me know if you see any!) . I would still love to hear your thoughts too!**_

 _ **Thank you! See you in the next chapter!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_Antonio didn't want to go home._

 _People could be very mean and Antonio knew that. He had dealt with bullies back in California too. The difference between then and now was that then he'd had his friends to back him up. Antonio, Gilbert, and Francis had always had each others' backs and they always defended one another when someone would call Francis a "sissy" or Gilbert "no-good" or Antonio "stupid"._

 _He'd always been able to handle the abuse his peers doled out because of his friends. In New York, though, Antonio had no one._

 _So crying alone in the park, hiding under a random tree, wasn't so much for the mean words the other kids had said to him today, but more so in reminder of how lonely he was. He missed California so much. He missed Francis and Gilbert. He missed having people he could talk to and play with in his life and he missed how care-free his mom had been back home._

 _His mom was the sweetest lady anyone could ask to have in their life. She never yelled unless she was extremely worried and she never cried when she thought Antonio could see. She worked ceaselessly to make ends meet, especially now that they didn't have Papa living with them._

 _So, yeah, Antonio didn't want to go home. Not when his face was covered in tears and sorrow. Not when his mother was worried about so many other things and Antonio didn't want to add himself to that long list._

 _But at least the tears were slowing._

" _Are you crying?" A voice suddenly asked from in front of him and Antonio looked up. Another boy stood before him. He had an olive complexion and dark brown hair and a scowling on his face. Despite the boy's rough exterior, Antonio couldn't help but notice the soft tone he had used to ask his question._

 _Antonio rapidly shook his head. "No." Even to his own ears the response sounded pathetic._

 _The boy's eyebrows raised slightly, but he didn't question it. Instead he gestured to the spot beside Antonio. "Can I sit?"_

 _Antonio blinked up at him, taking his time to process the question before nodding. The other took a seat without a word._

 _They were silent for a while. Antonio sniffled, his tears having come to a stop at the surprise of another person coming to sit with him. He wiped his face of the drying saltiness and tested out his slightly shaky voice._

" _I'm An- Antonio."_

 _The boy looked over. He had been gazing about the park for a time and at the gloomy sky, looking as relaxed as one might have been if not sitting beside a crying stranger. "Lovino."_

 _Antonio nodded and looked away. That was odd; that name sounded familiar. Was he in his class?_

 _He looked over again. No. He had never seen this boy. How strange. Then it hit him. That boy he had seen this summer, back before school had started. Antonio had only seen Feliciano a few times, but he was sure of it. Lovino was the brother he always talked about - the one that was never allowed outside._

" _You're my neighbor." Antonio said. This finally got a reaction out of the other. Lovino turned to him, confused. "Feliciano is your brother, right?"_

 _Lovino's eyebrows furrowed before he responded. "Yeah…"_

" _I live next door to you. Feliciano's told me about you!" Antonio smiled, pleased with himself for remembering. Lovino, though, looked on edge about this._

" _Like what?"_

" _Hm?" Antonio responded, unsure as to what was being asked._

" _What did Feli say?" Was it Antonio or did Lovino look worried at this?_

" _Um… nothing really. Just that you weren't allowed outside a lot because of homework."_

 _Lovino looked away, his expression unreadable. Then, he stood. "I better get going."_

 _Antonio followed with his eyes as he stepped away. "Okay. Uh, bye…"_

 _Then Lovino was gone and Antonio was confused._

 _But now he wasn't sad and that was a whole lot better._

-/-

The weather was a little overcast today. It reminded Antonio of the day he and Lovino had met. Right here below this tree. It was odd how attached to the location they had become, but after that first initial meeting they had kept running into one another there. Now it just seemed natural to meet up there.

Lovino was already there, sitting with a textbook in lap. The sight was one Antonio was accustomed to. He had a sandwich beside him, sitting atop the plastic bag it must have been packed in and a single bite taken from it. It looked like it had been forgotten, but at least he was eating. Lovino could get so focused at times...

"Hola, Lovi!" Antonio sang as he approached. Lovino startled, gaze snapping up as if he hadn't even noticed Antonio standing there for the past minute.

"Geez! Don't scare me like that, bastard!" Lovino cursed and Antonio noticed him roll his shoulders. He must have been hunched over that book for quite some time. Antonio sat next to him.

"What are you studying?" Antonio asked curiously while taking out his own study materials. Finals were next week and the whole student population was in a panic. Antonio mostly worried about English. He and the subject had never gotten along.

"Physics." Lovino replied, jotting something down in his notebook. Antonio couldn't help but grimace. Sure, he himself did fine in the subject, but Lovino had made the horrible mistake of signing up for the AP class and Antonio had seen plenty of the subject's horrors in the past semester during their joint study sessions.

"My apologies."

The two did their thing for a while. Antonio struggled through a study guide for his history class (what? just because he struggled in English didn't mean he had to work on it right then) and Lovino continued punching numbers into his calculator. About an hour in, Antonio had already moved on to math while Lovino was still flipping through that battered physics book. His brain must have been fried.

So, naturally, Antonio felt it was time to provide a distraction. Breaks during finals season were much more sporadic, but it made the pay-off much more sweet.

"Come on, Lovino." Antonio exclaimed, shooting up from his spot in the grass and spinning to face his friend. "Break time!" Lovino looked up and Antonio waggled his fingers in front of the boy's face, prompting him to take it.

Lovino looked from Antonio's face to the proffered hand and back, one eyebrow raised. He looked somewhere between amused and no where near it - until a smirk quirked at the corner of his lips. "What," he asked, a suppressed mirth in his tone, "Are you doing?"

Antonio said nothing but waggled his eyebrows and fingers more. He was beginning to think his spur of the moment idea wasn't so great when a weight relaxed in his palm. He looked down at the olive hand resting against his own in astonishment. This had been what he'd hoped, wasn't it? And it wasn't like it was a complete shock Lovino had bent to his ridiculous wims. So why was it such a marvelous surprise now that he was holding Lovino's hand?

"Well?" Lovino's voice startled him from his reverie and Antonio immediately leapt into action, laughing away the awkward moment. He pulled Lovino to his feet, earning a startled yelp from the other that took Antonio's mind right off of the strange feeling that had overcome him. Lovino's face was red, as the movement had taken him off guard, and now Antonio's own face was stretching into a wide grin. Before he could think twice, Antonio pulled him in, placed a hand on his back, and began to twirl them around.

He wasn't sure what he was thinking. Maybe he wanted to make them both dizzy enough to forget all their worries. Maybe he just wanted to hold Lovino close like this. Maybe it was just to see that wide look in Lovino's eyes and how he seemed afraid of tripping over his own feet. Whatever it was, it made Antonio laugh wildly, unable to stop himself from his pure delight and he continued to swing them around and around.

The two were nose to nose now and Antonio felt like he was on thin air. Was it possible he was only in a dream? Lovino looked embarrassed and amused and even fascinated in a way and Antonio took pride in knowing he had been the one to make it so - to pull so many emotions from Lovino that didn't revolve around his stressful nature and constant worries. Antonio doubted he was thinking about that abandoned textbook close by their feet now.

It was a little slice of time, away from school and family and all responsibility. And it was theirs. And while they both smiled and laughed and tripped over each other's shoes, Antonio knew he would treasure it forever.

-/-

Finals were over. _Finally_. (Pun completely intended.)

Antonio was ready to be far away from school. Far away from the state even. California was only two short days away - one day for downtime and packing and one for the flight. Antonio couldn't wait to hop on that plane and see the Californian sun again. See his friends again. Experience Christmas like it should be.

Not before he could give his best friend his present though. He was especially excited for the gift he'd found Lovi that year.

So Antonio was quick to jump up and dash from his classroom once the final bell of the day rang out. It wasn't long until the hallways were packed with kids all trying to get home to start their holiday, whooping and hollering and some clinging to each other like it would be years until they saw one another again and not two and a half weeks. Antonio had to battle against the natural flow of the crowd heading toward the front of the school in order to find the back stairwell.

Antonio didn't want to deal with anything remotely school-like over the break, so, naturally, his detour led him to the second floor of the building to stop by his locker where he would undoubtedly stuff his entire backpack unceremoniously before bolting. Upon opening his locker door, however, a folded piece of lined paper fell out.

"What's this?" Antonio spoke aloud, knowing the halls around him were empty even when it had only been minutes since the bell. If anything could be said for students, they were quick to get away from school on the last day of semester. Now, Antonio bent to pick up the square and unfolded it carefully, revealing dark black ink on the inside. He absently noted how fine the quality of the pen must have been to write so smoothly.

 _Antonio,_

 _Hi! I wish I would have gotten the chance to talk to you after class or something today, but, admittedly, I was kind of nervous to do so. So, anyway, since we've gotten to know each other a lot this semester, I thought we could get some coffee or something over the break? Here's my number in case you wanna call or text!_

 _XXX-XXX-XXXX_

 _Have a great break!_

 _Emma_

Oh, Emma! Antonio knew her; she was a nice girl in his World History class. She talked to him and laughed at his jokes and they'd worked as partners on different classworks. She was a lot of fun and pretty too.

And now she was asking him out…

And, honestly, Antonio had no idea what to think of that.

Well this was… something.

-/-

"So when's your flight tomorrow?" Lovino asked from Antonio's bed. He was sprawled with his arms crossed below his head, one leg resting on the other's knee, and one foot shaking. He had been staring at the ceiling absently, more or less relaxed as finals were done with, but now was craning his neck to watch Antonio as he packed.

"Around ten AM." Antonio replied, folding a shirt in a rather sloppy manner. "Oh, and that reminds me; I have your present!" Antonio then dropped the shirt and leapt to his closet, shuffling around for the shoddily wrapped gift. Having acquired it, he raced back into the room and stood before his friend, who had taken to sitting up and scooting to the side of the bed. He had a tiny, much more pristinely wrapped gift in hand.

Antonio was ready to shove the wrinkled papery mess into Lovino's arms before he could think about it when his thoughts stopped him. Was he sure this was the right gift for Lovino? Yeah, Antonio was proud of it, but was it really Christmas present worthy?

Antonio looked down at his gift, biting his lip in contemplation. _Just give him the present, Antonio. What the worst that could happen?_

Then the other gift was shoved into his view. "Open it." Lovino commanded and Antonio was left wondering how he was supposed to open it when he had his hands full with Lovino's present.

Oh. Wait.

So Antonio slowly held his own out to the other, thinking _There's no going back anyway_. And after an awkward exchange of the presents between the two of them (as they had both attempted to hand theirs off with both hands) they each had the appropriate gift.

"Okay," Antonio said, feeling more nervous than any other past Christmases they'd had, "On three?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Just open it, idiota."

So they both tore into their presents.

After stripping the paper back, Antonio's only revealed a small box beneath it, another layer to obstruct him from the treasure inside, so he took this moment to sneak a peek over at his friend.

Lovino was holding the scarf in his hands, feeling the soft yarn between his fingers. Antonio's heart leapt when he realized Lovino was smiling down at it and when he looked up and the two made eye contact, Antonio's heart stopped altogether.

"It's great, Toni." Lovino said, "Thanks."

It took Antonio a second to find his voice, but he eventually choked out, "Oh," his voice raised in pitch, "It's nothing."

Lovino was looking at the scarf again. "It has the Italian flag on it…" he spoke as if only to himself, but Antonio responded anyway, proud of what he had accomplished. Though now he wasn't sure if the many-months-long project was it or the pleasant smile gracing Lovino's face.

"I know how much you love your country." It was true. If Lovino could go anywhere it would have been there. If he could return to any part of his life, it would be when he was young and naive and living with his mother and father and grandparents in their big family home in the countryside of South Italy. He watched their football and cooked his grandmother's recipes for his family. Italy held a firm place in Lovino's heart.

Lovino ran his fingers over it once more then looked up. His gaze fell on the unopened box in Antonio's hands. "Open yours now."

Antonio nodded and opened the box. What he saw brought a soft smile of his own to his face.

"Is that a phone charm?" Antonio chuckled, reaching to pull the small ornament out. Lovino turned slightly red, but Antonio continued to examine it by dangling it in front of his face.

"Well, I know how you like all that cheesy shit… and if you dare call it that horrible word I will take it back and sell it for scrap." Lovino warned, but Antonio was in the mood to call his bluff.

"Oh…" Antonio said, already grinning, "You mean…"

"Antonio-"

"Socc-er?" Antonio stretched out the two syllables just for effect and Lovino groaned.

"Nooo! Antonio, why? You're Spanish for Christ's sake!" Lovino mourned the word like his own child. Football really was his child in many ways. Just like soccer was for Antonio.

"I was raised in America! You were too! I don't see why you still use it the other way!" Antonio teased, knowing how this argument would end. They had had it many times, after all.

"Because it's the _right_ way! How can you stand to use that word? It's _foot_ ball. Foot! Ball! This American bullshit is practically sacrilege!"

Antonio was barely holding back from laughing now and he held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. If you want I will call the phone charm 'football'," he made sure to use air quotes when saying that because he knew it would irritate his friend. What a great world it was to know so much about Lovino Vargas, "I will call it that. But only this charm. The team would simply never forgive me if I switched sides now." Antonio held a hand to his chest as if this was some great tragedy.

Lovino rolled his eyes. "You're all stupid." Antonio knew he didn't mean it and simply went to watching the charm again. It was simple, a flat little pendant with the little black and white ball on one side. It really was a sweet gift.

Antonio immediately tied it to his phone case, as newer model phones never really did have anywhere to tie them. He admired the look and was pleased that he now had a reminder of his favorite sport and favorite boy right at his fingertips.

Antonio hadn't been playing soccer for very long, having not been able to join the rec league when he was younger because his family couldn't afford it, but he had always loved it. His old and battered ball was still sitting in a corner of his room, the one he and Lovino had played with countless times in their yards or in the park. He had told Lovino a long time ago that he wanted to be a professional soccer player one day and, when they had both entered high school, it had been Lovino to convince him to try out for the school's team, despite not having the money to pay even if he made it in. When he had, it had taken a combination of financial aid from the school and from Lovino (who he promised to pay back once he got a job on the off season) and whatever money he and his mom could scrounge to make it happen. Now Antonio was an important player on the team, despite still being a first year, and he savored every single second.

Yeah, a reminder. That charm was a great reminder of the year his best friend helped to make his dreams come true.

-/-

Christmas wasn't much of an event. Antonio and his mom did what they pretty much did every year. Visited family and friends. Exchanged gifts and ate good food. Walked along the beachfront and went to the boardwalk. Antonio spent a lot of time either in Francis' room or Gilbert's garage. They ate junk food and told outrageous stories of the start of their high school careers and listened to a lot of Gilbert's loud metal music. If it weren't for Francis and his Christmas cookies, the other two would have forgotten all about the upcoming holiday.

It was a few days before Antonio and his mom had to leave again to New York when the three were hanging out once again, this time in Francis' kitchen where Francis and Gilbert were arguing over the definition of a 'balanced meal'. So far, Francis' argument made the most sense, as he was the only one using nutritional facts, but Gilbert was determined to prove french fries and chips could be considered healthy because they were technically 'vegetables'.

As for Antonio, he sat alone at the circular breakfast table off to the side of the kitchen, thumbs rapidly punching at his phone. He was so immersed in whatever fascinating happenings were taking place on the device that he didn't even hear when Francis had asked him a question.

"Allo? Antonio?" Francis asked, waving a hand in front of his friend's face. Antonio jumped.

"Ah! Francis, when did you get there?" Antonio exclaimed. Francis rolled his eyes.

"Who are you texting so adamantly? It must be life or death." Francis asked, his look saying 'don't even try keeping it from me'.

"Boyfriend or girlfriend?" Gilbert asked, spinning one of the table's chairs around and straddling it. He folded his arms atop the backrest and rested his chin on them.

Antonio ducked his head, knowing exactly what Gilbert was asking. "It's not like that."

"It must be Lovino. He only ever texts him like this." Francis comments with a wave of his hand. He gracefully takes the seat across from Antonio.

"Lovino's _not_ my boyfriend." Antonio said for the fifth hundredth time in the past two weeks. He had almost resigned himself to not even try anymore, knowing his friends would never give it up. Almost.

"Ah, but it _is_ him you are texting, is it not?" Francis asked, looking for the world like he had him in checkmate. He didn't even seem proud of that checkmate - just as if anyone should have expected it.

"Actually," Antonio sat up, feeling more confidant now that he could refute his friend's notion, "I'm texting Emma."

Gilbert suddenly let out a peal of cackling and they both turned his way. "Francis, you owe me ten bucks!"

Francis did not look pleased. He turned away from Gilbert and back toward Antonio. "Emma? You've been texting her a lot over the break."

"Well, yeah," Antonio shrugged; it wasn't like they didn't know already, "Like I told you, she gave me a note before break and I had to let her know I wouldn't be around for the holiday. Now we just sort of text back and forth."

Francis pursed his lips slightly, but, before he could say anymore, Gilbert jumped in. "So, are you gonna ask her out?"

"Um, well considering she asked me out first I don't know if that would be possible." Antonio answered, a tad bashfully.

"But you like her." Gilbert said, as if it was obvious fact.

"I told you, it's not like that." Antonio mumbled, not sure really what to make of the idea.

"You said that Lovino wasn't your boyfriend. I heard nothing about Emma not being your girlfriend." Gilbert pointed out, shit-eating grin practically a constant on his face always and forever.

Antonio blushed severely. "She's not!"

"But you want her to be." Gilbert said. Again with the saying everything likes it's fact!

"Ugh. Can we please not have this conversation?" Antonio ran a hand down his face, a gesture of exasperation which all the while hid his darkening features.

Gilbert chuckled to himself but said no more. He was a little shit, but he knew where to draw the line. Just then the oven's timer went off. Antonio hadn't even realized they were baking something.

"Aw, hellz yesss!" Gilbert exclaimed and jumped up, pouncing to the oven and no doubt about to administer serious burns to himself while trying to get whatever it was. When Antonio looked back to his other friend, expecting Francis to jump up to help their excitable friend, he found the other simply watching him, regarding him as if trying to unscramble a rather difficult puzzle.

Before Antonio could ask though, Francis ceased his reading to do exactly as Antonio had expected of him in the first place and disappeared into the kitchen.

Antonio wondered what that was all about. Then he shrugged. If it was something Francis wanted to share, he would share it. For now, it was time to figure out what the sweet smell wafting in from the kitchen was.

-/-

 _Antonio wanted to see Lovino again. He had finally met him and he was intrigued. For one, Antonio wanted to know him. He wanted to know why he had to stay inside so much and why he had homework during the summer. He wanted to know why he looked so guarded and rude when his voice could come out so soft. He wanted to know why Lovino didn't smile for him the first time they had met. Surely all kids smiled._

 _For another, he wanted Lovino to know him._

 _It was lonely being the only kid who hadn't grown up in this school and it was hard to make friends, especially when they all treated him like some outsider. Lovino hadn't treated him like that though. He had taken his time to speak to him when he was crying and sat down with him until he was feeling better. He had made Antonio feel a little less lonely._

 _So everywhere Antonio went he looked for him. At school, in the park, at their houses. Antonio watched out his window at the small garden in the Vargas' yard to see if Lovino would ever make an appearance, but, just like the entirety of the past summer, he never did._

 _Antonio sat by that tree in the park all the time now - the one he had met Lovino under. Lovino was never there either._

 _The only place left was school which was about the least likely place to find him. Sure, he must have gone to school but Antonio didn't even know if they were in the same grade. It was impossible to find him there._

 _So Antonio continued to watch out his window and sit under his tree and scan the many students he passed in the school halls. Sometimes the other students would say mean things to him - call him "dumb" or "weird" - but Antonio didn't cry anymore. With the hope of finding Lovino, the hope of making just one friend, Antonio didn't feel so lonely anymore._

 _Which led him to the day when he was sitting under that park tree. He was counting the birds that flew overhead. Nowadays it was an activity that kept him well occupied._

" _Twenty-two." He whispered to himself. Antonio knew there was no one around to hear him, but he felt compelled to keep his voice down anyway. He didn't want to disturb the peace that surrounded him. In those moments it was just him and the sky and the birds._

" _Twenty-three."_

 _He had been there for a while, if you couldn't tell. Birds didn't just fly by in a steady stream like cars, you know. Which was another game he liked to play. Counting cars as they drove by his house. He had played that one many times this summer. But, even then, it hadn't been a lot of cars. Their street was pretty vacant most of the time._

" _A bluebird." Antonio whispered, spying a bird that had perched itself in the tree branches above him - the ones that partially obstructed the summer sky from his gaze._

" _You're here again." A voice suddenly startled him and Antonio sat up. He had almost forgotten what the boy sounded like it had been so long. That and for the fact that Lovino's voice sounded a lot more abrasive this time around._

" _Lovino." Antonio greeted, more seriously than he had intended. He didn't know what to feel in that moment. He would have expected excitement, but now he simply looked at the other, wondering if he'd had the wrong impression of the boy._

 _His stance was guarded. His features looked almost angry. Antonio was afraid he had done something wrong for a moment._

" _And you're Antonio." Lovino responded, crossing his arms over his chest. At the sound of his name Antonio's eyebrows furrowed. Funny, that wasn't something they did often._

 _But Lovino had remembered his name. That had to count for something, didn't it? Antonio's head was swimming in the contradictory mess this boy had made it when Lovino asked, "Can I sit?"_

 _It took Antonio a moment to process this. It was their first meeting all over again. Instead of nodding this time, Antonio remembered something his teacher had told him._

" _I'm sure you can, but_ may _you?" Antonio teased, already a grinning mess at his joke. Lovino's face became cloudy and he stepped back. Antonio's grin slipped and they both stood in silence for a second._

 _Then Lovino tilted his head slightly, realizing something. "Are you… making a joke?"_

 _Antonio blinked. "Uh…" then he grinned sheepishly, "Yeah."_

 _Understanding dawned on Lovino's face and his arms uncrossed. "Oh."_

 _More silence. More awkward standing and more sitting and staring for Antonio. Then Lovino opened his mouth again. This time there was a smirk on his face._

" _Then_ may _I sit?" Lovino asked, teasing in his own voice now, much to Antonio's utter shock._

 _Antonio sputtered for a while before coming out with a response. "Uh, y-yeah. Yeah! Yeah." He nodded vigorously and gestured to the grass next to him._

 _When Lovino took a seat they both fell into silence again, but not one that was uncomfortable like moments before. They simply enjoyed one another's company, like all those old people always said. It was a little different and a little odd, but a whole lot less lonely._

 _It was the beginnings of the strongest friendship either of them would ever have._

* * *

 ** _CV: Hello! I am back. A few things: 1. Why do they call it a "shit eating grin"? I am slightly concerned. 2. Sorry for all the cheese. This story is full of it. 3. The idea of the Italian flag scarf came from a beautiful piece of art Sand once made. Thank you, Sand!_**

 ** _Thank you so much to everyone who has read, followed, favorited, and reviewed!_**

 ** _There is a bug on my computer dasbkcnapwx send help_**


	3. Chapter 3

_Antonio's old soccer ball had been with him through a lot. He had gotten it, a brand new, pristine ball, for his sixth birthday. In California, he had played with it relentlessly. With Francis and Gilbert. With other kids in his neighborhood. With the side of the house (much to his mother's annoyance). Antonio had taken it to school many a time to play with during recess and once he'd used it for his show-and-tell to the class._

 _In New York, his love for the ball had been no different. On the car ride over, he had kept it in his lap the whole time. His mother had tried to convince him to pack it away in the moving trucks or even in the trunk of the car, but Antonio wanted to keep it close. It was like a stuffed animal or blanket to him. It was his greatest comfort._

 _So whenever they stopped at an inn or gas station, Antonio would run to find an open area to play with the well worn ball. He would chase it and make goals out of the oddest places like the side of the wall to the rest stop's restrooms or a trashcan. At one hotel they had stopped at for the second night of traversing the country, Antonio succeeded in gathering a wide array of kids to play with. Some were other guests of the inn, some local, and some were the children of the hotel's staff._

 _Antonio had so much fun on that trip, if he was honest. But it wasn't entirely so either. He was ten years old and stuck in a car for hours at a time. He looked out the window and used the neat little travel table his mom had strapped to the back of the passenger side seat to color, but mostly he gazed longingly at the ball he kept with him and thought of all they were leaving behind._

 _He remembered how emotional his mom had been on that trip. She would laugh and look for all the world like the most liberated woman alive and Antonio wondered if it was because they were getting further and further away. From California? From Papa?_

 _Then she would be sad. She would watch the setting sun and fiddle with her old ring, the one she didn't wear anymore. At night she would cry when she thought Antonio had fallen asleep._

 _Antonio knew his mom and dad didn't get along well anymore. That was why they were moving away. Why his mother still cried, though, was a mystery. Hadn't this been what she'd wanted?_

 _It was too much for this little ten year old to understand._

 _Soccer was very important to Antonio. This ball had been given to him by his parents - both of them - when they had still been happy together. It was all sentiment though. Antonio would never think of a present situation where they could still be together and happy. They were happy now apart and that's just how it went._

 _Besides, Antonio would have never come to New York, never met Lovino or played on the school soccer team or gone out with Emma or done so many other great things here that he would never trade for the world, if his parents were still together._

 _So, yeah, that soccer ball told a lot about his past. It was reminder of good times and bad times and boring days and the summer sun and backyards and a tall oak tree in the park. And it was a reminder of all the people Antonio couldn't have lived without._

-/-

"Aren't you supposed to be the football player here?" Lovino taunted as he traded the ball between feet and darted to the side. Antonio went after him, an easy maneuver to counteract, but, of course, Lovino didn't need to know that. Lovino was practically giggling in glee and Antonio was having the kind of fun that one simply couldn't have during actual practices. Instead of drills and exercises, they were playing a one-on-one with dodging and stealing and even a little foul play. "Wow, the off season really has you in bad shape." His friend continued, shouting behind him as he ran away, juggling the ball from foot to foot.

"Hey! For you information, I've played a lot of soccer since season ended!" Antonio yelled after him, shooting toward the ball with a new vigor. It was game time now.

"Hey!" Lovino exclaimed when the ball was snatched from his grasp, but Antonio was already down the other side of the field. The AstroTurf below his tennis shoes felt like an old home, even though he hadn't played on such fields for most of his life. He was without cleats or shin guards which wouldn't have been a big deal if he hadn't been playing against Lovino. The other boy was brutal when trying to retrieve the ball.

"Ouch!" Antonio shouted, hopping on one foot and watching Lovino take off with the ball. Antonio couldn't ever be sure if Lovino kicked like that on purpose - if he used foul play or was simply trying to snatch the ball away. "That was a foul!"

Lovino wasn't listening, instead racing again to his side of the field. Once again, Antonio took off, but it was too late. "Goooaaalll!" Lovino roared, throwing his head back and lifting his arms to the heavens. The battered ball lay in the net, forgotten, as Lovino celebrated and Antonio continued to shoot down the field. Only seconds later Lovino's bellow instead turned into an alarmed shout when Antonio tackled him to the ground.

The next thing they both knew they were laying side by side on the fake grass, breathing heavily and laughing between each labored puff of air. "You…" Antonio breathed, taking each word slow, "Cheater."

"Me?" Lovino answered, equally exhausted, "You tackled," breath, "Me."

"Because you cheated," a breath from Antonio, "First."

Lovino laughed then. "Yeah, right." Despite being too tired to insert the proper amount of sarcasm into his voice, Antonio recognized it anyway.

They stayed like that until they both caught their breath, then hoisted themselves up. Lovino was the first one up and he offered a hand to Antonio. Then they strolled to their backpacks which they had ditched at the edge of the field and, like the twenty-first century teenagers they were, they each immediately checked the phones they had left there so as to not crush them in their sport.

"Feli's cooking tonight. We'll definitely have extra pasta. Wanna come over?" Lovino commented on the text he seemed to be reading without looking up from the phone. Antonio shrugged and scrolled through his own messages. A couple from his group chat with Gilbert and Francis (most likely memes and complaints about some classmate's fashion), one from his mom saying she would be at work late. All pretty much to protocol. Except...

 **Emma** : Hey Toni! About that rain check from winter break… wanna go out this weekend?

Antonio's eyebrows hiked up to his hairline. He had almost forgotten about that. Well, sure, they had seen each other in school - even talked a decent bit in class - but all their texting had pretty much gone down since the end of break. He had completely forgotten about his promise.

So, naturally, he shot back a text immediately, confirming that, yes, he would love to. It was only fair. And he wouldn't want her to _know_ he had forgotten.

"Is that a yes? Is that a no?" Lovino prompted and Antonio looked up.

"Huh?"

His friend rolled his eyes. "Food. My place. You coming?"

"Oh," Antonio said, "Yeah! Definitely."

"Awesome." Lovino swung his backpack over his shoulder, "Let's get going then."

The walk home wasn't all that eventful. Usually it wasn't. Just two kids utilizing worn, rocky sidewalks, kicking pebbles back and forth between them. By the time they made it to the Vargas household, the sky was purple and orange and Lovino's house was alight against the backdrop of a darkened sky. Lovino scoffed. "Feli never turns any lights off, does he?"

Antonio laughed and they entered the house. The shift between the stillness of the evening and the hustle of the Vargas household lifted Antonio's mellowed spirit. Feliciano had been the only one home, but he sure knew how to occupy an area. The house was bright, there were smells of pasta and candles about, and there was music in the air.

They both kicked off their shoes at the door and Lovino threw his backpack down. Antonio opted on hanging his. Lovino disappeared into the room to the right and Antonio took his time following. The place was like a second home to him anyway.

By the time Antonio had gone through the hallway, cut through the dining room, and into the kitchen, Lovino was already propped onto the counter beside his brother, gesturing wildly to the pan of sauce Feliciano was stirring.

"Hi, Antonio!" Feliciano greeted in his usual bubbly nature. He was blatantly ignoring his brother's criticisms for the sole reason of annoying him. Antonio smirked at the natural brotherly interaction. Antonio had never had anything like that - the closest being his relationship with Lovino. He had a brother, but he was far older than him and lived back in California.

"Hello, Feli! I heard you are making pasta?" Antonio responded amiably.

Feliciano smiled in an almost innocent way. Antonio knew this meant he should expect some sort of joke from the boy. "Is that such a surprise?" Feli knew the jokes that went around about his love for pasta, but he was never one to take something like that negatively. He was a sensitive boy, but also an optimistic one.

Antonio shook his head weakly, smiling like he really should have expected a joke like that. "I suppose not. So, how are you, Feli?"

"Oh, same old same old." The auburn-haired boy waved his wooden spoon, gesticulating as he spoke and splattering a quarter-sized dollop of sauce on the floor. Lovino sighed at the sight, but said nothing. It was really to be expected around the younger Italian. "I got this new candle here at the store. Isn't it lovely?"

"It is. And, is this opera?" Antonio asked.

Feliciano nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Isn't it beautiful? I just love opera." He looked rather dreamy as he shut his eyes and absorbed the music. Antonio looked at Lovino for his reaction and was not surprised to see him roll his eyes. It was so normal for Lovino, but when it was directed toward his brother Antonio always smiled fondly at the sight.

For a long time Antonio had worried Lovino hated his family. His mother for not being there. His father for being too harsh. His brother for getting everything and being the 'favorite'. But he was different with Feliciano. He was protective towards his little brother with a fierceness that Antonio had only seen a few number of times in regards to other things in the years they had known each other.

Lovino put so much determination toward anything he set his mind to - that was his ridiculous stubbornness. His aggressive love and need to protect was something else entirely. These were saved to use against people who picked on Feliciano and for the moments when Antonio just couldn't see a way to move forward when every paper back had a big red F at the top.

"Dinner's ready!" Feliciano exclaimed, pulling plates out of the cabinets. Lovino swung down from the countertop and went to the silverware drawer and Antonio turned to the pantry that kept the glasses. It was a system, one the three had never had to speak of. They could just work in this way without speaking, without getting in each other's way, without hesitation.

In no time the table was set and dinner was served. Three spaces. No adults required or wanted. Antonio didn't have to ask where their father was, neither did he wish to. It was much too pleasant a night to bring up such things.

So dinner carried out in light chatter and the twirling of forks and a lot of Antonio chasing his dangling pasta that hung from his own utensil. The other two were quite mastered at the sport, but Antonio had never gotten the hang of it. It just didn't seem possible to get the long noodles all on the small surface of one fork. And, in this house, it was blasphemy to cut the pasta any shorter than it already was.

The steady clinking of forks against plates was disrupted when Feliciano's clattered to his plate. He was gripping his phone, now in both hands, and rapidly texting as if his very life depended on it.

"And he scolds me for using my phone at the table." Lovino muttered, reaching for his glass of water. He was interrupted by a loud _Shhh!_ from his brother and Lovino looked absolutely affronted. He looked back and forth between Feliciano and Antonio for a few seconds before asking, "What?"

Feliciano waved his hand toward his brother without looking up from the phone and Lovino and Antonio shared a look. Then, Feliciano's eyes snapped up and latched to Antonio's own. Antonio almost fell out of his chair.

"Oh my gosh! You're taking Emma out?!" Feliciano was leaning forward as close as he could from across the table. Antonio was worried for the table's integrity and for the front of Feliciano's shirt which he was sure would have red sauce stains on it before this was over.

"Um…" Antonio's eyes darted around, as if looking for their own explanation, "Yeah?"

This seemed to be a well enough response because Feliciano leaned back (thankfully without any shirt stains) and clapped his hands over his mouth. He let out a little excited squeal. "I didn't know you liked her!"

Antonio chuckled, not sure what else to do. He scratched the back of his neck. "Well, she asked me out before break, but I couldn't do it since I was going to California, so I guess this is what makes up for it?"

Feliciano let out another squeal. "Oh my God; this is so cute!" He dived back into his phone and typed away. Antonio let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd needed now that the attention was off of him.

Or so he'd thought, at least. "You're going out with Emma?" Lovino asked. Antonio glanced over at his friend and was surprised to see an array of emotions dancing across his face. Before he could distinguish any one from the others, Lovino closed off, completely emotionless. Antonio blinked. He had never done that before. Antonio had seen Lovino do that with his father and his father only. Never to anyone else.

So why was Antonio now at the other end of this look?

Antonio nodded in response to Lovino's question. He had no idea what to say. _Yeah, is that okay with you?_ Why would Antonio need to say that?

Lovino nodded back. He tried for nonchalance. "Cool." He went back to twirling his pasta, closing himself off from the conversation.

 _Lovino, what's wrong?_ Antonio wanted to ask. _Why did you suddenly close off? What is it that you're avoiding telling me?_

But, instead of speaking any of those thoughts aloud, Antonio let the weight of the unspoken suffocate the rest of dinner. Shortly after, not able to handle the atmosphere any longer, Antonio said his goodbyes and went home. Now, with his bookbag and a Tupperware of leftovers Feliciano had insisted he give to his mother when she got home, Antonio was alone in the cool night air.

Dark rain clouds obscured his view of the stars and only a thin sliver of the moon shone through in a luminescent beam. It was a short distance between their two houses, literally a couple of feet apart, but it was enough for Antonio to contemplate everything that had happened that night.

And even after he had been home for hours, Antonio still could not piece together what had gone so wrong.

-/-

Antonio had been fast asleep when the knocking on his window woke him up. Whoever it was had no regard towards those of the world who might have actually been sleeping at - at- damn it, what time was it?

Antonio rolled over, the tiny red lights of his alarm clock signalling a time that was quite displeasing to the sleep-lover.

 **3:46am**

Antonio groaned loudly. He should be thanking someone, something, everything, that it was the weekend because if he had woken up at this time on a school day when he got up at 5:30am anyway, it would have been quite an inconvenience to put it lightly. He was not thanking though. He was cursing. Cursing the ground the person walked on and every one of their descendents.

The knocking sounded again and Antonio threw his head under his pillow. Would someone make that horrible sound stop? They would be his hero. He would willingly indebt himself for life right now to whoever saved him from such a horrendous noise.

But the noise continued. And no prince charming was coming to rescue poor Antonio from it. So this damsel would have to save himself. Ugh.

So Antonio threw his pillow and wrestled his blankets off of him, not caring that most of them ended up on the floor. He struggled to the window, pathetically failing in trying to stalk his way angrily toward it, and threw it open. Another, equally annoyed face stared back at him.

"Finally!" Lovino whisper-shouted in the dark morning, "I thought you were going to leave me out here all night."

Antonio blinked, unsure as to why he was so surprised at his friend's appearance. Lovino was the only one to ever knock on his window, yet Antonio had somehow convinced himself it would be a dragon to vanquish. Man, his sleep-deprived state was something he should really get a handle on.

"Lovi?" Antonio asked sleepily, all the fight leaving him. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, "What are you doing here?"

Lovino huffed and crossed his arms. Antonio noticed he was in his long pajama pants and that they were currently folded up many times so they wouldn't touch the ground. "Why do you think I'm here, bastard?"

Antonio rolled his eyes. "What a way to treat someone who's gonna let you in their house through a back window at four in the morning." Antonio let him in anyway.

They ended up staring at the ceiling again, but this time things were different. Before Lovino hadn't kept his face so neutral. Before it hadn't been so difficult to think of things to talk about. Things had never been so… awkward between the two.

It was at least an hour before Antonio started to feel sleepy again and his eyes began to droop. A whisper jogged his conscious though.

"Antonio?"

Antonio blinked and turned toward the boy next to him. "Hm?"

"I just- I was wondering-" Lovino seemed to struggle with his words, much to the boy's impatience. He huffed and fell silent.

Antonio nudged him, prompting him to go on, "Yes?"

Lovino paused for another second before trying again. "I wanted to know… why you didn't tell me about your date with Emma…"

Antonio's eyebrows shot up. "Huh?" He remarked before he could think it through. Lovino quickly went to explaining himself.

"I mean- I just thought- well- we tell each other everything, don't we? I mean, I guess we don't have to. You don't _have_ to tell me. And I guess there are things that I prefer not to talk about either. But I do. Talk about them, I mean. But you don't have to-" Lovino seemed to realize that he was rambling then and quickly shut his mouth. He looked away and pulled the covers up closer to his face, as if intending to hide behind it.

Antonio's reaction was almost instantaneous. He jumped and wrapped his arms around his friend. "That's what you were worried about? Oh, Lovi, I thought you were mad at me! Or maybe that something had happened! I didn't know what to think; you just closed off and you had never done that before and I was so worried!" Antonio held his friend tight and he could feel how stiff Lovino was in his arms. Lovino had never been very touchy-feely, but he tolerated Antonio.

Antonio thought he had subjected the boy to enough physical contact to last a while and pulled away. Lovino was facing him again, face red and eyes wide. "I wasn't keeping it from you, Lovino. I got her text right after our soccer match today and I didn't find it really relevant to bring it up."

Lovino pursed his lips. "But I thought she asked you out before break…" he mumbled.

"Well, yeah. We never went out, but we texted a bit. I just didn't think it was a big deal." Antonio examined his friend. "You know… I'm not going to get a new best friend just like that."

Lovino's eyes widened again. "W-what?!"

Antonio laughed. "You can't hide it. I can see it. You're jealous, aren't you?"

Lovino sputtered. "A-am not!"

"Oh, Lovi~" Antonio sang, "You don't have to pretend. I see now, but know this," Antonio put one finger up, punctuating the point he was about to make, "You will never get rid of me that easily."

Lovino scoffed and rolled over. "You are such an idiot."

"Me?" Antonio said, still laughing. "Why never!"

Lovino let out a single breathy laugh which caused a smile to dance across Antonio's face. They were silent for a while before Antonio whispered into the darkness this time.

"Were you really worried about that though?"

Lovino shifted to face him. There was an undeniable truth in the other's eyes, one that answered his question without words and so Lovino didn't speak.

Antonio snuggled further into the thick quilt that covered the two as they watched each other. No words were required as Antonio observed his friend grow tired, and nod off, and, eventually, _finally_ , fall asleep. It was Antonio's favorite part. When Lovino was actually asleep. It made him feel like he had done something right. It made him just a little less worried for his friend. And the serene expression Lovino wore when he was lost to the world like this made it all the more special.

It rained that early morning, before the sun had even thought of rising. It pattered against the glass of his window and reflected off of the walls of his bedroom. It was a relaxing experience.

Antonio wasn't tired nor did he feel quite awake. It was that ethereal time where it was neither morning or night - where thoughts were non-existent yet were your only company - where no one else in the world existed but you were such an insignificant dot in the massive population of the world and the universe.

Antonio didn't know what prompted him to do it, but, before he knew it, he had rested his hand atop Lovino's, the one the boy had sprawled next to his head on the extra pillow Antonio kept that they both knew really belonged to Lovino.

He watched their hands. He thought of how the other's felt against his. It wasn't the first time he had held his hand, but Antonio couldn't help but handling it as if it was something he had never done before.

He retracted his hand sometime after. His mind was still swimming with thoughts of Lovino and Emma. Emma's texts. Lovino's hand. How Emma always smelled like her family's bakery. How Lovino was so protective of his little brother. How elegant Emma's handwriting was when she wanted it to be. How Antonio sometimes didn't know if it was determination or stubbornness that made Lovino do things.

So he whispered one last thing to Lovino, long after the last words they had exchanged.

"I'm glad you care, Lovino."

* * *

 ** _CV: Anyone here ever play soccer (football, whatever) by using a trashcan as a goal? Fun fact: that's how one of my best friends and I met! The more ya know. Also, another childhood thing. Does anyone remember those table things that strapped to the back of a seat so you could color during car rides? I had a Hello Kitty one that we only took out during long car trips._**

 ** _Opera + Feli is one of my fav headcanons_**

 ** _Thank you everyone following, favoriting, reading, and reviewing this story! And thank you so much to EllaAwkward and whoever recommended me for mentioning me in their author's notes. I am still in the process of reading "GAY-OK Cafe" which is why I have not left a comment yet, but it's a lot of fun to read and you guys should all check it out!_**

 ** _See you next time!_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Warnings: Parental dispute (found in first flashback) and panic attack (second/last flashback). Please skip if you need to and stay safe :)**_

* * *

" _Do you even care anymore?"_

 _Thud. A perfect shot. Antonio had hit his ball directly in the tree's center._

" _I_ care _. I care about providing for us. For this family! Do you think we would have all the same things - this nice house, live in this neighborhood, send Toni to a good school - if I didn't work so hard?"_

 _Thud. Another goal._

" _You work_ too much _. We can do without some things if you were just home more often. Don't you think Antonio misses his father? Do you not believe I miss my husband?"_

 _Antonio dribbled the ball from foot to foot. He circled the tree and then started hopping, seeing if he could do that thing where he could balance the ball while switching it between feet._

" _I do what I can for this family. What do you do?"_

 _The ball fell. It rolled away on the ground._

" _Raise our child? Is that not important to you?"_

 _Antonio didn't go after the ball._

 _There was silence from inside the house. Then more talking. It came out as mumbling to Antonio's ears since he was outside and they were now using a normal volume for their conversation._

 _Antonio continued to stare after his ball which had come to an eventual rest in the middle of the yard._

" _Toni? Mijo, it's time for dinner." His mother's sweet voice called to him from the doorway. It sounded strained._

 _Antonio looked up. He didn't move for several long seconds._

 _Then he slowly walked into the house, leaving his ball behind in the grass._

-/-

It didn't take long for Antonio's and Emma's weekend date to turn into another, then several others. It really wasn't long until they were officially boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Official?" Lovino had scoffed when he'd told him. He had been the first Antonio had told and it had only been later the same day it had happened. Antonio knew he hadn't technically been in the wrong for the misunderstanding that had happened before, but that didn't stop him from wanting to prevent it from happening again. He made sure that he considered the things that Lovino might want to know about his life, as long as they weren't too personal. "We're freshmen in highschool. What does 'official' even mean?"

Antonio shrugged. "I guess it just means we're exclusive. We hold hands and stuff. Maybe we'll kiss; I don't know."

At this, Lovino practically choked on his own spit. "Kiss?"

Antonio looked over, concerned for his friend. "Yeah?" It wasn't a committed answer. "I mean, that's what couples do, don't they?"

Lovino shifted, neck a bit red, but face buried in his textbook. "I guess." He mumbled.

Antonio shrugged and stretched, folding his arms behind his head and leaning against the trunk of their tree. He checked the timer on his phone. There was still fifteen minutes to go.

He sighed. "Lovino, have I ever told you that you work too hard?"

"Yeah. Constantly, actually." Lovino replied, turning a page in his textbook. He had placed it back on the ground once his face had gone back to its normal shade.

"Well, you do. What are you even studying for anyway?"

"Psychology."

"When's that test?"

"Um, in two weeks, I think?" Lovino looked between his textbook and notebook. Antonio groaned.

"You have plenty of time to study for that class! What are you doing with your life, Lovi?"

Lovino simply flipped him off, again not even looking up. "I have homework for the class too. And it's good to spread out studying the material so you can retain it easier."

"Is that something you learned in psychology?" Antonio asked.

"Yes. Actually, it is."

Antonio hummed. "What are you learning about now?"

Lovino was quiet and Antonio thought he may have been so absorbed in his reading that he hadn't heard. Then, he spoke up.

"States of consciousness."

"Ooo! Sounds interesting. What's it about?" Antonio sat up, resting his hands on his knees.

Lovino shrugged. "Drugs. Hypnosis. Sleeping. Dreaming."

Antonio's eyebrows hiked up. Interesting.

"Really? Like what?"

Lovino looked down at the text. "Well, right now I'm at the part about sleep. It's talking about circadian rhythm and melatonin and the different stages of REM."

"Mmhm…" Antonio hummed, encouraging him to continue.

"Well, melatonin is the hormone your body produces to regulate your sleep. More melatonin, more sleep. As a person gets older, less melatonin is secreted by the pineal gland. Thus, an adult doesn't sleep as much as a newborn."

Antonio nodded and Lovino continued.

"Circadian rhythm is defined pretty easily. It's your biological clock. It kinda tells your body when to produce more melatonin so you sleep at the appropriate time. Then you have your stages of sleep. When you're awake, your brain produces Beta and Alpha waves. Beta are for when you're alert and Alpha for relaxed. Then you go into hypnagogic state, which is when you're falling asleep. Then NREM1 which have Theta waves, NREM2 which also have Theta but also have these things called sleep spindles, then into deep sleep, NREM3, where you have your Delta waves."

Lovino looked up and Antonio was sure his face must have said it all because he smirked and closed the book.

"I guess that's a bit much though. Not like you'll ever be going to sleep and be like 'What a nice hypnagogic state this is. I should do this more often.'"

Antonio laughed. "Yeah, I guess it went over my head a bit. Is there always a lot of technical stuff in psych?"

Lovino shrugged. "Depends. Mostly a lot of old experiments that would be illegal nowadays and vocabulary of shit you didn't know they had a word for."

Antonio hummed. "Anything about actual sleep though?" Lovino made a confused sound. "I mean, like, tips to get a good night's rest? You'd think with a class that tries to understand human thought and behavior they'd include some."

"Uh, yeah. Nothing revolutionary though." Lovino said. Antonio stayed silent hoping he would continue. Lovino sighed and consulted his notes. "Stretching and exercising. Breathing. Avoid caffeine, nicotine, and other stimulants. Keep a good sleep schedule and comfortable sleeping space."

There was a pause. Antonio spoke. "Not half bad ideas."

Lovino scoffed. "In theory."

"I think you just stress over it too much."

Antonio let that be food for thought as he grabbed the textbook beside Lovino. The page was still marked with a scrap paper inside and he flipped it open. He read over it a bit. "Hey, this stuff is pretty interesting." Antonio said after a while, "How about this: a change in sleeping schedule or exposure to bright light can reset your biological clock. Something about electronic screens stimulating the brain into thinking it's daytime? Wow, that explains so much. I should really tell that to Gilbert haha."

Just then a great droplet of water fell on Antonio's nose. "Huh?" He looked up and, through the sparse foliage of the oak above them he could see great grey clouds, plump with rain and looking ready to release their torrents any minute. "Uh oh."

Lovino, who had followed his gaze, jumped into gear before Antonio was able to think. He started throwing things in his bag while warning over his shoulder, "Come on!"

Antonio startled as well and as soon as they both had slung their bags over their backs the downpour began. They both ran immediately, tennis shoes smacking against the pavement and arms pumping wildly. It was a race to remain dry, a feat neither of them accomplished. Lovino threw up his hood, but Antonio, who never wore a jacket for the life of him, had nothing. He didn't mind the cool streaks of water down his face though.

By the time they both got back to Antonio's house they were soaked to the bone. He didn't know about Lovino, but Antonio's socks were squishy, his shirt was stuck to his torso, and his hair was slick against his forehead. When they walked in they practically flooded the hallway before Antonio's mother scurried in.

"Oh boys! You're soaked! What were you doing, playing out in the rain? You're both going to catch a cold." Antonio's mother fretted, "Take your shoes off and go get changed. I'm sure you can find something for Lovino here. I'll go make something warm for you two."

So the two boys migrated upstairs to change. Antonio had to shuffle around through his drawers for a while, but he finally found Lovino some drawstring sweats he could use and a dry t-shirt. He retrieved towels to dry off their hair and, by the time they were finished dressing, both in warm house clothes, a sweet aroma was wafting up from the kitchen. They were there in no time.

"Grilled cheese…" Antonio said dreamily as he reached for one. His mother smacked his hand with her spatula.

"They aren't done yet." She said, Lovino chuckling behind her. Antonio pouted and slinked off. "So how are you, Lovino? School is well this semester?"

"Yes ma'am." Lovino replied, always polite with ladies, "Sorry for ruining your front hallway."

Ms Carriedo (having ditched her husband's last name long ago) waved her hand, pushing away the notion like it was the very definition of ridiculousness. "Not at all. I'm just glad you boy's got home before any real damage could be done to your health." She turned toward Antonio. "Though that still remains to be seen." Back to Lovino. "He won't ever use a jacket, will he?"

Lovino shrugged. "I'm just surprised he can still be so warm natured up in New York. California's one thing, but up here he's like a living furnace."

Ms Carriedo giggled at that. "Yes, that is the perfect way to describe mijo." She pinched Antonio's cheek, much to his displeasure, "A living furnace."

Antonio swatted his mother's hand away, all the while still grinning. He may have been subjected to relentless teasing, but he couldn't help it. His mother and Lovino were the two sweetest people in the world.

To further this point, just then Lovino set about to put on the kettle. "Earl Grey, right Ms Carriedo?"

"Oh, you don't have to, Lovino. I can do that."

Lovino shook his head. "Kettle's already on."

"Well, thank you and Earl Grey would be great. Aren't you just the sweetest boy?" Ms Carriedo turned back to her cooking, flipping a sandwich on the pan and humming to herself.

Antonio was practically jumping. "Oh, Lovi! Can I have hot cocoa? Please! Please!"

"Gosh, you're like a child, Toni." Lovino responded, turning away to check the cupboards for tea and (hopefully) hot chocolate packets. "Do you even have any?"

"Yay!" Antonio cheered and leapt over to help his friend. Once they had retrieved the items and the kettle had boiled, they both set about to preparing the drinks - tea for his mom and Lovino and hot chocolate for Antonio, in which he piled a mountain of mini marshmallows atop. The drinks and sandwiches were done almost simultaneously and they all helped to get it all to the table.

Lovino and Antonio dove into the sandwiches, not even realizing how hungry they'd been until now and Ms Carriedo sipped at her tea. When they were done, they all sat contently, sipping on their beverages, listening to the patter of rain outside, and enjoying the warmth of the mugs in their hands and socks on their feet.

The washer dinged and his mom asked him to go switch it out. Antonio wasn't pleased to have to leave the comfortable atmosphere but if it was for his mom then he could do it. She worked too hard anyway.

So that was when Antonio found himself kneeling in front of the washing machine, pulling clean, wet clothing to the dryer. The detergent on them was easily noticeable and Antonio appreciated the scent as he worked. It didn't take long before there was a heap of clothing enjoying the bottom of the dryer and for Antonio to close them in their dark chamber, turning the spin cycle on.

And now he was making his way casually back to the room he had left his mother and friend in.

"I don't really know what to do about it…" he heard Lovino say. Antonio stopped, unsure as to why. There was something in his friend's voice, something that told Antonio to give them space.

"I know I'm a mother which probably makes me really biased, but I think if she wants to talk to you - and Feliciano - you should give her a chance. Maybe there's something there. Maybe you should give it a shot." His mother's voice was kind. Antonio had heard this tone many a time. It was reassuring and she always knew just when he needed to hear it.

Which made him wonder, why did Lovino need to hear it now?

Well, the answer was obvious when Antonio had heard what they were talking about.

He walked into the room. "Hey guys." Lovino startled and his eyes darted from Antonio's mother to Antonio and down to the cup he held in his hands. He looked slightly guilty and embarrassed. Most of all, he looked closed off.

Why was it that more and more lately Antonio had seen that closed off look from Lovino?

"Hello Mijo. Did you put the clothes in the dryer?" His mother asked, acting for all the world like she hadn't just been having a private discussion with his best friend. Why were mothers so good at that?

Antonio nodded and hummed his affirmative.

"Alright. Then I guess I better get going to work. My shift goes from six to midnight tonight, so will you be alright for dinner, Toni?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine. Love you, Mom." Antonio kissed his mother on the cheek and she left the room, no doubt to go gather her things and be off.

"I guess I should go too." Lovino tried to say nonchalantly, shrugging and standing. "The rain has let up and my dad will want me home soon."

Antonio chewed at his lip, unsure as to all the emotions bubbling in his stomach. He wanted Lovino to stay. He wanted his friend to tell him about what was bothering him.

But he couldn't bring himself to stand in his friend's way to the door. "I'll bring the clothes back later. See you tomorrow at school." Lovino said, having stuffed on his shoes and slung his backpack onto his shoulder.

"Okay." Was all Antonio could respond with.

Lovino looked back and seemed to hesitate, then he turned around and ducked his head, making his way out into the few drops that still fell outside.

"Give him some time." His mother's voice said from behind him. Antonio thought she might be right, but he couldn't get Lovino's words from a few weeks ago out of his head.

 _We tell each other everything, don't we?_

-/-

Antonio gave it a week. Then, because he really couldn't think of anything else to do, he gave it another week. In two weeks time, Lovino still hadn't brought up what was bothering him, and it sure as hell was bothering him. Every day the boy seemed to grow more agitated, more worrisome, and buried himself further and further into the hole of study and work.

Antonio was about done with it.

One day after school Antonio headed to their tree. Sometimes they planned on meeting there but, on most occasions, they just went and happened upon the other. They were at the tree a lot which meant "happening" upon one another probably couldn't have been the best way to describe it. More like "expected" each other.

So Antonio wasn't surprised at all to see Lovino already sitting there, studying, as was his norm. Something rolled in Antonio's gut as he approached.

"No studying today." He commanded, arms folded across his chest as he looked down at his friend.

Lovino looked irritated at that. "Not today, Antonio."

But Antonio wasn't in the mood either. He bent down and took the textbook right out of Lovino's hands.

"Hey!" Lovino made a mad grab for the book, but it was already out of reach. He leapt to his feet. "Antonio, I cannot do this today. I've got three tests tomorrow."

"Well, you should be prepared then because all you do is study!" Antonio retorted. Lovino looked shocked at this and Antonio couldn't really blame him. Antonio never let things get to him like this; he was never in a mood. "I'm sick of you working so damn hard. Give it a break! The world won't implode if you breath every once in a while, Lovino! I'm tired of having to physically drag you away from those books!"

"No one asked you to, Antonio!" Lovino shouted back. "If it's such a damn hassle then you can just leave and forget about it! I work because I want to get good grades; I want to go places after school and be something!"

"That's not why you do it." Antonio's voice got very level, very serious all of the sudden. "You do it for your dad. Admit it." Then he couldn't control his voice again and it went up, "Well, guess what, Lovino? It will never be enough! You try so hard and he doesn't even _look_."

Silence washed over them. A horrible horrible silence.

"Lovi…" Antonio tried. He really tried. "I didn't mean-"

Lovino shook his head severely. His knuckles were white and he wouldn't look him in the eye. "No." He turned away. His voice cracked. "No."

Then he stooped and gathered his things. Antonio didn't stop him.

When Lovino walked away Antonio stayed at their tree for a while. It was a silence full of dread that weighed around him, one that he simply could not shake. Perhaps he deserved it for what he had said.

He shook his head and held it in both his hands. How could he ever expect Lovino to forgive him for something like this? How could he ever forgive himself for hurting his best friend like that?

Antonio let himself fall into a quiet misery as he continued to stand under that tree for hours. He could let his anguish envelope him now that he was alone, something that was somehow impossible when others were around. He was always "happy Antonio" to other people. He was the one who didn't let a thing bother him, either too stupid or too carefree for negativity.

But everyone suffered and now Antonio hated himself for what he had done. He didn't want to smile after this. It would be like pretending none of it had ever happened. But he knew as soon as he got home, got to school tomorrow, happy, carefree Antonio would be back and his mistakes would still be there. Concealed where no one could see.

-/-

 _When Antonio first met Lovino, he wasn't always so high-strung._

 _Lovino used to procrastinate everything and protest anything his father told him to do. Antonio still had no idea why that had changed, but it was as if one day, it all did._

" _Whatcha doing?" Antonio asked, walking up to their tree. They were both in the seventh grade and neither had that much homework or anything normally, but recently it had seemed Lovino was swamped with it._

" _Just studying." Lovino looked up and shrugged, watching his friend set his backpack down and plop himself next to him._

" _Really? Why?" Antonio asked. They had the same classes, so Antonio knew that no tests were coming up or difficult material being taught._

 _Lovino shrugged again. "Preparing."_

 _Antonio let the vague answer go. It wasn't like him to pry. Not at that age._

 _So he just took out his DS from his bag and played for a while, providing his friend the silence he needed. Just because he didn't want to study didn't mean he had to disturb Lovino._

 _Looking back, Antonio knew Lovino hadn't been acting like himself, but it had happened so gradually that, in the moment, it wasn't a worry for him. Lovino studied a lot now and, if Antonio had thought about it, the boy had begun to turn down a lot of invites to hang out too. He didn't notice though. No one noticed._

 _Until it happened right before him - something that was very hard not to notice._

 _Antonio was silently playing his Mario game while Lovino had been looking over one of the school textbooks. Their teacher barely ever used that book. Things were normal between the two. It was like it happened completely out of the blue._

 _Lovino's breathing had started to become irregular. It picked up pace, as if the boy was close to hyperventilation. Antonio looked up, concerned, and found his friend frozen rigid. His muscles were all tensed up, eyes trained on the textbook in front of him but taking none of it in._

 _Antonio sat up quickly. "Lovino?"_

 _Lovino's eyes jumped up and he seemed afraid. His eyes focused on him for only a second before it seemed like they were looking into empty space. Lovino sucked in air and threw his head back down. To the textbook. To the textbook._

" _I'm fine." He practically gasped in a barely audible voice._

 _Lovino was still, as still as possible. He was holding his breath and looked as though he would give anything to read the words off of the page in front of him. His eyes found empty space. Antonio could see it. He could see his friend's struggle._

" _Lovino, what's wrong?" Antonio asked. He had no idea what to do. No idea what was happening._

" _Nothing!" He nearly shouted, his voice wavering. He probably would have if he wasn't so occupied with taking in lungfuls of air. He held it in again._

 _Antonio gripped his shoulders. "Stop that!"_

 _Lovino's head snapped up in alarm, eyes wild in fear. Antonio held tighter, not sure if that was the best thing to do. He was so lost. He felt like that look in Lovino's eyes: lost and afraid._

" _Stop holding your breath; you'll make it worse!"_

 _Lovino didn't listen. His eyes found his textbook again. "I'm fine." He whispered once more. His eyes searched desperately over the words that littered the book in front of him._

 _Antonio grabbed his chin and forced him to look up. "Lovino. Breath." He was taking charge. He didn't even think twice about it; he just had to get Lovino to calm down. "Like this." Then Antonio took in a deep breath, holding out against the impatience his fear festered in him. He waited for Lovino to catch on and shakily take one in too._

 _He exhaled, equally as agonizingly slow and waited. They did that for… however long it took. Honestly, Antonio had no idea how long they had been there._

 _When it was over Antonio didn't remember much about what happened after. The experience had been intense enough that all other thoughts seemed washed from his memory of it._

 _He did recall though, after that it was a while until Lovino would come back to their tree._

* * *

 ** _CV: Heya! I hope the warnings at the top were sufficient. It would be a tremendous help if anyone has any suggestions for them. I would really like for the reading experience to be safe for everyone, so let me know if I've missed any warnings or need to elaborate them in_ any chapter.**

 _ **Thank you all so much and I will see you in the next chapter!**_


	5. Chapter 5

Antonio and Lovino hadn't spoken in weeks. Antonio knew he should have gone to find his friend. He knew he should apologize. The situation had just gotten away from him. First, he'd needed his own space. Then, he thought he'd give Lovino space too. Now they had both been avoiding their tree and their normal routes in the school hallways _and_ had been leaving their houses at different times than usual, all just to keep from seeing each other. To accidentally make eye contact and see the guilt and betrayal that resided in each of them.

They had both said things they'd regretted and, aside from it all, Antonio knew Lovino was still keeping something from him.

So, yeah, maybe they were avoiding each other for the words that had been said, but they were also doing so because of the ones left unsaid. Lovino had thought they told each other everything, yet he was the one keeping things secret.

Antonio wasn't one to usually hold grudges, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't part of the problem.

Antonio still went out with Emma and he still talked over Skype with Francis and Gilbert, but his life had drastically changed since his avoidance of their tree.

So Antonio got a job to pass the time. He couldn't lay around doing nothing forever and he still had to pay Lovino back for his help with soccer fees.

Speaking of soccer…

 **Emma:** You have work this afternoon?

Antonio was staring down at his phone beneath his desk in math class. He looked up and saw Emma winking at him from a few seats across and he smiled back, looking down again to type out his reply.

Then Lovino's little charm caught his eye. The tiny soccer ball, dangling from the plastic case.

"Mr Fernandez-Carriedo," His teacher spoke from the front of the class, snapping his attention up at the authoritative and all not too pleased tone in her voice. "I know it can't be my lesson on Trigonometry that has you smiling so fondly down at your lap, so would you mind telling the class what seems to have you so captivated?"

"Uhhh…" Was his intelligent response, but before he could think of some excuse she held out her hand.

"Give it here." Her hand waved him forward in the universal gesture for 'Come at me, bro', though Antonio was at least 78% sure that couldn't be what his teacher had intended.

He slid out from his desk and shuffled through the rows of tables and smirking faces so that he could place the precious device in her hand. This was what people must have meant when they spoke of 'the walk of shame' he thought as he hung his head and slunk back to his own desk.

"You will get this back after class." The teacher said from behind him and the sound of her desk door clanging shut sealed his fate. When he sat back down she resumed her lesson.

Antonio dared to peek around the room. First, his gaze found Emma.

 _'Sorry!'_ She mouthed.

He waved off the apology, mouthing his own _'It's fine!'_ and watched as she emphasized the frown she wore on her face. It looked much like a pout. Maybe it was. Antonio couldn't be sure because whenever the word 'pout' passed through his mind, the first image that flew through was always Lovino's cute face. When he crossed his arms and frowned just slightly, lips poking out just that little bit, it was one of the most adorable things Antonio had ever had the fortune of seeing.

Which brought his attention unconsciously to his friend at the front of the room.

Lovino quickly averted his gaze. He had been looking back at Antonio, but for whatever reason, Antonio didn't know. He liked to think Lovino missed him as much as he himself missed Lovino. He decided right there and then that he had to talk to his friend. Not only to say sorry, but to help him too. He knew Lovino wouldn't have been keeping things from him if it wasn't something important. A best friend had to be there for these kinds of things.

Even if he was still hurt that Lovino was keeping secrets.

But tracking down his friend was a lot more difficult a task than Antonio had prepared for. Lovino was _really good_ at avoiding people when he set his mind to it. Once again, the boy proved more stubborn than Antonio had anticipated.

Antonio had originally thought it could be as simple as waiting at their tree for a while. Surely Lovino would show up sometime. He hated being in his own house. But the park was as desolate as it had been all winter. The cold weather had actually picked up recently, so in fact it was more desolate than usual. So Antonio remained out in the cold on many afternoons until evening came and he had to walk home.

He tried meeting up with the other boy in the mornings before school or on the walk home after. Antonio tried to catch up with him in the hallways or even pass notes to him in class. He texted him. Obviously. He texted him a lot.

No response. No way to reach him. It was as if Lovino was just out of his grasp and, many times, that was just the case when he was _physically chasing after him_.

Lovino was a difficult person, to say the least.

Then, on top of it all, Antonio had to go to work, spend time with Emma, do his homework. The teachers just _had_ to choose now to make his life a living hell, didn't they?

But, in the end, it was as if all of that chasing was for nothing. That didn't matter one bit to Antonio though when Lovino turned up at their tree a week and a half later.

Antonio had been studying, sitting in his usual spot by the tree with a warm sweater and hat and scarf and a stack of papers in his lap, when Lovino had walked up.

"Hey." Was all Lovino said.

Antonio wasn't sure _what_ to say, so he settled on, "Lovino," and a relieved sigh. Guess he'd had a lot of tension around this for a while.

Lovino stood there for a few solid seconds and Antonio let him. He had been the one to initiate this after all. He would give him the chance to speak - to yell at Antonio for what he had said, to defend himself again against the accusation Antonio had spectacularly thrown at him. When more silence went by, Antonio was contemplating taking the first step.

"I'm sorry."

Antonio had to take a second of his own to get those words through his head. "...What?" Maybe he had heard wrong…?

"I said I'm sorry, bastard." Lovino huffed. Then he visibly softened, "Look, I shouldn't have yelled at you and I shouldn't have avoided you. I know you've been trying to talk to me this past week and I've done nothing but ignore you."

"Oh…" Antonio responded. "But, wait, Lovi, shouldn't I be the one-"

"No." Lovino cut him off, shaking his head. "You were right. I had to think a lot on it, but I think I've known for a while how right you'd been. I study - I work myself to the bone - for him." Lovino sat next to him, opting to look around the park instead of at Antonio himself. "I want him to see me. I know that if I just do _enough_ I might be able to make him proud one day. I _really_ hope…" Lovino trailed off. Antonio's heart ached for his friend. He really had so much hope. All for this man who had never done anything for him but the very minimum. He still thought there was someway to get his father's approval.

Lovino subtly whipped away a tear that had been pooling at the side of his eye and Antonio pretended not to notice. "Yeah, so, anyway," Lovino continued, "I'm sorry."

"Lovino…" What was he going to say? He hadn't a clue. Stop worrying about what your dad thinks? He's a jerk and you should focus on yourself for a change? Please, I don't want an apology; I just want you to take care of yourself? "I'm sorry too. Even if you don't want an apology, I said some mean things that I can't take back. So a simple 'sorry' is the least I can do, right?" Antonio smiled and, for a change, Lovino actually smiled back. It was weak and his eyes were distracted by who knows how many thoughts, but it was beautiful.

Lovino's eyes cleared and Antonio knew he could see him. "Alright. I guess we can agree that we're both sorry asses and move on." Lovino shoved him lightly with his shoulder in good nature.

"Yeah, alright." Antonio replied with a shove of his own.

After a time Lovino spoke up again. "Um, hey, and you don't have to babysit me, you know. I didn't know that's what you felt about all that study break stuff we do…"

"What? Oh." Antonio remembered what he had said. _I'm tired of having to physically drag you away from those books!_ He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "No, really. It's not a big deal. I really don't feel like I'm babysitting you. The real reason I got mad was… well…"

"Was what, Antonio?" Lovino asked, a little apprehensive. Antonio knew what that felt like. They had just solved one problem and now it was as if they were opening a whole new can of worms, one that Lovino had no preparation for.

But Antonio wasn't going to stop now. "You're keeping something from me, aren't you, Lovino? I heard you talking about it with my mom - and, _no_ , before you ask I did not ask my mom about it."

Lovino looked down at his shoes. The black canvas of them was worn and the rubber at the edges, scuffed. Lovino fidgeted with one of the laces. "Yeah…"

"It's about your mom, isn't it?"

Lovino nodded. He still wouldn't meet his eyes.

Antonio didn't want to push him, but he knew his friend wasn't the open type. Just a little more encouragement wouldn't harm anything.

"And…?" He asked. Lovino looked up to peer at Antonio's face and Antonio cocked one eyebrow up. He smiled when Lovino rolled his eyes at the gesture.

"She wants to talk to us again."

Antonio nodded. As they continued to sit, letting those words mingle within the air, Antonio knew the conversation was over. Maybe it was for the best.

"Look," Lovino spoke again, "I know I'm a hypocrite for not telling you. I said we told each other everything then I didn't even tell you when my own mother started to contact me again. I just- I- I didn't know _how_. I didn't know what I was going to do and I still don't. And it's all so weird and confusing. Feliciano wants to talk to her but I don't know if I can."

Antonio nodded. "I get that, Lovino. I know it must be just really strange and uncomfortable. I mean, I still talk to my dad sometimes and it's weird. Maybe just a heads up next time, yeah? Like, 'Antonio, I've got something happening right now but I really don't want to talk about it. It's not a secret, just shit I'm dealing with.' and I'll be like, 'Sure thing, Lovino! Let me know if I can help! I'm great at avoiding issues and emotions!' and we'll both come to this tree and study or play soccer - ugh, _football_ \- until we forget all about it!"

"Wow, sounds healthy." Lovino said, a smirk at the corner of his lips.

"We're teenagers. We aren't supposed to be good at handling our emotions." Antonio said as if that was common knowledge. He relaxed and leaned back against the tree.

"We sure showed _that_ well enough this past month." Lovino responded, leaning back as well.

Antonio laughed. "We sure did."

-/-

"I'm sure that's a _great_ idea." Lovino rolled his eyes at the television, sitting with his legs crossed in the middle of the living room floor. "Do the thing that will freak everyone out! Not like you've got capable adults there to get rid of the fricking snake!"

Antonio giggled. "Would _you_ trust Lockhart?"

"Alright, _one_ capable adult there. He _still_ didn't need to talk to it!" Lovino threw a jelly bean in his mouth and scrunched his nose as the flavor hit him.

"Okay, for one, he doesn't trusted Snape very well either. For another, how was he supposed to know talking to snakes wasn't normal in a school of magic? Look, he's saying so right now." Antonio gestured to the screen.

Lovino rolled his eyes again. "It's not only this. He does _so much_ stupid shit all the damn time. Honestly, so much could be done easier by just telling an adult."

"Lovi, you've got to remember that Harry's never really _had_ any adults to go to with problems. And sometimes it really would complicate things by telling the adults. Adults like to complicate things."

"So you're saying by talking to the snake he wasn't complicating things?"

"We've already said that he couldn't have known about that one. He didn't know he was complicating things."

"What about when here. They're making Polyjuice Potion. To sneak into the Slytherin dorm room. To try and figure out something that isn't even their business! Haven't you noticed that they like to butt into everything?"

Antonio sighed, long and forcefully. "Fine. You win this time. But only because it's your birthday~"

"No, I won because my argument makes sense." Lovino had a satisfied smirk on his face as he took a sip of the sugary sweet concoction they had whipped up in the kitchen before their movie marathon. A mixture of cream soda and butterscotch, or, as some called it, non-alcoholic Butterbeer.

They both turned back to the TV screen, reliving their elementary years in their socked feet and circled glasses and house scarves. Antonio was the only one of the two who would still dawn the glasses, but they both wore their yellow and black scarves they had gotten for the last movie premiere.

As Antonio had said, today was Lovino's birthday, March 17th, and the two were spending it exactly as tradition: dedicating it to their most truest of childhood obsessions (aside from soccer, of course), Harry Potter.

They had Harry Potter days down to a profession. All the movies on DVD. A handful of the video games to play on PlayStation. An array of witchy snacks and Honeydukes sweets. The books for debate and evidential purposes. Even their old Harry Potter Trivial Pursuit game that they knew all of the answers to but still liked to play anyway. All of that and loads of other embarrassing things that made the event geeky and special.

Antonio was currently waving his wand around like some hyperactive orchestra conductor. He drew words and symbols in the air as if it would stick like the glow of a sparkler before fizzling out.

"You know, we'll probably have to retire these wands soon." Lovino said, looking at his own wand in hand. It was made of a dark wood… well, wood may not have been the best word. Paint more like.

Antonio examined his own wand. It was nothing more than a chopstick with glue and paint. Feli had taught them how to do it, since he was, after all, the most artsy of the three. Feliciano wasn't as into Harry Potter, but he sure as hell had loved finding new ways to bring the world to life for the two. Plus, Antonio knew he had been fond of the quidditch games they would have in the yard. He used to use his trusty soccer ball as the quaffle.

But Lovino was right. His own wand was chipping in a lot of places where the paint had a tougher time sticking and it was only a matter of time before the cheap chopstick waved its last spell. Maybe it was time to put them away in some memory box. He didn't want to use it until it was beyond repair…

Memories. More memories in these wands. Days of pretend. Gluey hands. Shouted spells across the park and lawn. It was sad to think how far away those days were. He enjoyed the present, but he couldn't deny how appealing reminiscing on the past was.

"We'll have to find new ones." Antonio said. "Can't go around completely defenseless."

This earned a small chuckle from his friend. Their humor was interrupted by the soft thumps of tired footsteps clomping down the stairs.

 _Thump_.

Antonio looked down at his watch. 12:32 pm. Not bad for the kid's birthday.

"You're going to sleep the day away, Feli. Honestly, you'd think you had better things to do on your birthday." Lovino laid back on the carpet and looked up at his brother, upside down.

Feliciano yawned, covering his mouth and eyes half-lidded. "Good morning, Lovi. Good morning, Toni."

"Happy birthday, Feli!" Antonio greeted. Feliciano nodded as he reached the landing. Lovino went back to watching their movie, flipping over to lay on his stomach. Once Feliciano had disappeared into the kitchen, Antonio asked.

"How long do you think it will take for it to hit him?"

The question was immediately followed by a crash in the kitchen, one in which Antonio sincerely hoped was not another mug, and the scamper of excitable and much more awake footsteps. Feliciano burst into the room, eyes a lot more aware and bright in the natural afternoon lighting of the Vargas' living room.

Feliciano immediately tackled his brother, who could not escape because of his new position on the floor and flailed about, shouting, "G'off me, idiot!"

"Oh my gosh! Happy birthday, fratellone!"

The two wrestled like that for a while before Feliciano finally let Lovino go, gasping as he remembered something. "Oh no! I told Roderich and Elizabeta I would go out with them today! What time is it? I better get ready!"

And as quickly as Feliciano had been there, he had gone.

"Every year. Every damn year." Lovino mumbled to himself, dusting his shirt off in a disgruntled fashion.

You see, the Vargas brothers were indeed two years apart in age. Somewhere, somehow, they had both come to have the same birthday though. Don't ask; Antonio didn't know. And neither did anyone else. It was just one of those freak happenings the world liked to confuse people with.

Lovino said it was just a day their parents had decided on, whether it be the official day or not, so they wouldn't be obligated to celebrate more than one day a year. Antonio found that assumption depressing, but he had no way to refute it so he said nothing.

It wasn't like his parents celebrated it anyway. Both Lovino and Feliciano had grown up without presents or cake or anything else that was usually custom for a birthday. Sometimes they wouldn't see their dad at all on the day because he would go out to work early and stay late. He couldn't say that Mr Vargas always forgot completely - the brothers each got at least a text sometime throughout the day - but Antonio still could not bring himself to see him as much of a caring father.

The Fernandez-Carriedos took care of it though. His mom made dinner and cake and Antonio always got them both a present. They were kind of lame presents but Feliciano always seemed ecstatic and Lovino looked pleased, so Antonio figured he'd done alright.

And many years ago they had started on their Harry Potter tradition. Feliciano used to participate as well, but in recent years he mostly caught the end of their marathoning, having gone out with friends throughout the day. It went without saying that Antonio and Lovino were perfectly fine on their own though. They had practically spent most of their friendship like that.

Lovino never seemed too phased by their birthday nowadays. He hated making it into a big ordeal. Antonio thought that maybe it was a way so that the brothers wouldn't dwell too much on what an actual birthday was supposed to be like.

 _Bzzzz. Bzzzz._

Lovino stretched his hand across the floor to retrieve his phone. Antonio knew who that must have been.

Or, he had thought he did until a perplexed look etched across Lovino's face.

"Who is it?" Antonio asked, more interested now that he was fairly certain the text couldn't have been from Lovino's father.

"My mom…" Lovino said the words like they were foreign to him. Antonio was as surprised as Lovino seemed to be. "She must have gotten my number from Dad."

"What? I thought she already had your number? Didn't she say she wanted to talk?" Antonio asked.

Lovino shook his head. "That came in a letter. She knows our address, but, you know, she lives in Oregon."

"Really?" Antonio had never heard that before. Lovino nodded absent-mindedly. "So… what'd she say?"

Lovino stuck his phone on sleep and tossed it away from him. His expression was neutral, but not the kind that hid his emotions from Antonio. He wasn't shutting himself off, simply putting off the discussion. He shrugged, letting his gaze find the TV screen again. "Just happy birthday."

"Before your dad?" Antonio asked incredulously. Before he could even realize how insensitive that statement could turn out Lovino shook his head.

"Dad texted this morning."

And that seemed to end the conversation. Or, at least, it sounded as if this was where Lovino wanted to end it, but Antonio was still teeming with questions. Had he talked to his mom since the letter? Had Feliciano? Why did she live in Oregon?

After a suspended silence, Antonio decided to drop it. It was Lovino's birthday, after all.

So he sighed and returned his attention to the movie. The questions would not go away, but Antonio could leave them alone for now.

By the time hours had gone by and the sky was dark, they had to pause halfway through Order of the Phoenix to eat dinner at Antonio's house. Feliciano had gotten home toward the end of Goblet of Fire, just in time to see Harry travel back to Hogwarts via TriWizard Cup Portkey. He had been watching with them since, but as soon as Ms Carriedo had called, he had ushered the two out, exclaiming that he was starving and that they would have waited until the end of the movie to move if he hadn't been there.

Which Ms Carriedo had agreed with him on when he'd told her upon their arrival next door. And which may or may not have actually been true. Yeah, they had done that in the past, but they had matured a lot in the past four months (Come on! Binge-watching that new series on Netflix was _important_!)!

For dinner it turned out that his mom had tried her hand at something from the Vargas' country. "I'm no good at cooking Italian, but it's your favorite so I thought I would at least try." Feliciano had cried.

Her Baked Ziti had been amazing. Mediterranean cooking was definitely her style.

Then had come the cake. The brothers were left at the table to awkwardly wait and chat with each other while Antonio and his mom went to retrieve it. Antonio had been the one to put each candle on and his mother had lit them with a long clicker lighter. They'd turned out the lights and sang Happy Birthday in a series of languages before the two blew out the candles.

Antonio remembered the light of the candles dancing in Lovino's eyes in just that split second before the room went dark. And he remembered afterwards asking what his friend had wished for.

Lovino didn't tell him, but the expression he had given Antonio after he'd asked had been the most melancholy look he'd ever seen.

Antonio's mom and Feliciano didn't seem to notice, too engrossed in their conversation to pay attention to what the other two were doing. Lovino picked at his cake for their remaining time there, looking quite calm in his sombered state. Antonio didn't ask again.

Lovino didn't have to tell him his wish. That look had told Antonio enough.

-/-

"Toni?" A light, angelic voice asked, squeezing his right hand. The dark theater and loud movie made Emma's whisper barely audible, but Antonio turned to her anyway.

"Hm?"

She leaned in closer so he could hear better, her words tingling against his ear as her breath gently caressed his face. "Let's get out of here."

Antonio expected his insides to knot or maybe his own breath to catch at the feeling of hers on his skin. As always, the feelings did not come. Perhaps it was just inexperience - he had never had a girlfriend before - but each time a little twinge of disappointment gnawed at his gut. He had always thought romance would be a bit more… well, _more_.

Maybe he had been talking to Francis too much.

Nevertheless, Antonio nodded and they quickly got up from their seats. Ducking out of the theater was an easy task, but deciding where to go afterwards was over Antonio's head. If he had been with Lovino it would have been easy. Everything was easy with Lovino. Guess that's just how it was with one's best friend.

It was a good thing Emma always seemed to know what to do. Once they were out in the chilly night air, she took his hand again and started to lead them down the street. "Let's just walk for a bit." She threw a pretty smile his way and he smiled easily back. A smile had always been his default in any situation and he felt bad that he couldn't give a more genuine one.

Sure, he was happy. It wasn't like he was miserable. He just wasn't anymore happier than usual.

As they walked, Antonio noticed how cold the air had become. Before the movie, when the sun had still been out, it had been warm like the mid-April weather usually was. Now, Antonio was glad he had brought a coat.

Emma rubbed at one of her bare arms with the hand that was still available to her and Antonio suddenly had an idea. He let go of her hand and whipped off his jacket. He would be cold, but his mother had raised a gentleman. He knew what was expected when you took a girl out. He'd seen TV.

So he draped his jacket over Emma's shoulders, much to her glee. They continued to walk in silence, hands linking again and Emma smiling giddily. Antonio was quite pleased with himself for that smile; he loved making people smile.

They came to a courtyard where someone was playing the saxophone under the protection of a gazebo. Emma was ecstatic at the happenstance and tugged on his hand, pulling him closer. She took his other hand and pulled it to her waist. She rested her other hand on his shoulder and they danced under the fairy lights that decorated the courtyard. It was a scene pulled straight from a romance novel and Antonio didn't hesitate to spin her like a princess.

He thought of when he danced with Lovino under the winter-stripped boughs of their tree. The pressure of finals, waggling his fingers in the other boy's face, his surprise when Lovino had taken it. Lovino's embarrassment and his red-tinged face that Antonio loved so much.

He hadn't even noticed that their spinning had halted until he was met with Emma's large green eyes. They stuck him in place, unable to say a word. He wanted to say something, anything, to snap him from the wide-eyed gaze, but it was like he was pinned. It made him nervous.

Then she was closer. No space was left between them and she began to elevate herself on her tip-toes. Antonio's eyes began to widen as Emma's closed. Their lips brushed.

It was his first kiss.

And, yeah, that's all he had to say about that.

-/-

"Soooo," Gilbert's voice asked over their video call, "How was it, man?"

"Oui, tell us everything, Toni." Francis agreed, both his friends practically bouncing when he had told him about the kiss.

Antonio scratched at the back of his neck, coming to find that he did that a lot when embarrassed. "Well, uh…" he wasn't really sure how to respond to these questions. How could he? He himself didn't even know what he thought of it. "I… like kissing?"

His friends laughed. "He's such a virgin." Gilbert cackled.

Francis rolled his eyes. "You speak as if you have any experience past kissing yourself, Gilbert."

"Hey!" Gilbert crossed his arms, leveling the boy next to him with a glare. The two were both at Francis' house, lounging on Francis' pristinely made bed. "You haven't either."

"Oh, haven't I?" Francis answered ambiguously. Gilbert immediately began to interrogate him, saving Antonio from elaborating on his own experience. It did not free him of the thoughts linked to it though.

The kiss. He had kissed Emma. Well, more like Emma had kissed him. Kissing had happened though. There had been kissing.

Antonio shook his head. Honestly, he kept thinking in circles. But what was he _supposed_ to think?

How had it felt? Like his and Emma's lips were pressed together. Except… nice. It was nice in a way and he had liked it. It hadn't been anything spectacular, but with how distracted he had been through their whole relationship that didn't surprise Antonio. The pressures of a first kiss were just too much to live up to, he guessed. But it had been pleasant - a nice experience.

Pssh. "A nice experience." Was that seriously how someone was supposed to think of their girlfriend? What a great boyfriend Antonio was.

"But I heard that isn't the only big news you have." Francis' voice cut through his thoughts and once again Antonio was thrown back into the conversation.

"Huh?"

"Oh yeah!" Gilbert exclaimed. "We've got a driving man! Come on; show us!"

"Oh!" Antonio said, remembering and digging in his back pocket for his wallet, flipping said wallet open to the ID. "It's only a permit, so I still have to drive with my mom, but, yeah, I can legally sit behind the wheel." He explained, showing the permit to his friends through the camera.

"Good, that will come handy during our escapades this summer. I wish to be away from my house as often as possible over the break." Francis said.

Usually the three only saw each other during the winter holidays but they had been planning something special for this summer. Antonio's mother still had work, but the trio had planned accordingly. Antonio would be allowed to crash at Franny's for the month in California. The three had been planning this since Antonio's last visit and he'd only gotten permission to go a couple of weeks ago from his mom. He had been dreaming of summer sun and sandy beaches since. It had been a very long time since Antonio had been to California during the summer.

Then, with three words, those plans toppled before Antonio's eyes.

"About that, guys…" Gilbert spoke up, a fine layer of guilt tracing his voice.

Francis was the first to gasp. "No." He held his hand up toward his friend, "No, Gilbert. I don't know what it is, but we've been planning this for months - you _can't_ back out."

"I'm not backing out!" Gilbert exclaimed, looking offended, but the guilt was still there. "If I had a choice you know I would stay!"

"What is it, Gil?" Antonio asked.

Gilbert calmed, looking at the computer again. "Well, you see…" he bit his lip, "My parents think it would be a good idea to send Luddy and I to visit our grandfather over the break. They're going on this cruise thing and don't want to leave us home alone, so I guess we're going north."

Antonio immediately deflated, mirroring Gilbert's already slumped position. "So, in other words, no summer plans."

Gilbert shook his head at the camera. "No, I mean, you guys can still have fun without me! You don't need me there!"

"But the whole point of this," Francis sighed, rubbing his face, "Was for the three of us to be here together."

If it was possible, Gilbert deflated more. Antonio immediately picked up on this and jumped to the rescue.

"Yeah, but it's not like Gilbert has a choice. And we can call him and video chat with him." Antonio wasn't sure if anything he said could lift their spirits, but it was worth it to try. "It'll be my turn to be on that side of the Skype call." Antonio joked.

Francis picked up on what Antonio was trying to do, and, though still quite put out, he helped. "Yes, Antonio is right. We've done it before. We can do it again."

Gilbert still looked down, but he perked up just the slightest bit as he said, "And I won't be gone the whole time. We'll just be there for three weeks, so that gives us a week to hang out when I get back."

"And maybe I can convince my mom to let you guys spend some time over here for a couple weeks too!" Antonio added. It wasn't a ridiculous idea. His friends had come over to New York before during the summer. If they could scrounge a few weeks after Antonio got back from California then the three could spend most of the summer together.

"Perfect. A Plan B. Make it happen, Toni." Francis clapped his hands together. "Well, if you don't mind now I must get ready to meet up with the Drama Club. So I will bid you adieu. Gilbert, get out of my house."

"Franciiiissss, you can't kick me out like that!" Gilbert complained, immediately back to his usual self. Antonio chuckled.

"Okay, guys. I'll catch you later then."

"Yes. Adieu. Adieu." Francis waved like some pageant girl on a float, ignoring Gilbert still protesting his banishment from the Bonnefoy household. Antonio waved enthusiastically and clicked the 'End Call' button, sending the app back to its original screen. He put his laptop away and got ready for bed, pulling on his oversized pajamas and brushing his teeth with the mintiest toothpaste he had ever tasted. His mouthwash _burned_ afterward.

It was only ten so Antonio didn't go directly to bed, instead opting to watch some old movie on his phone while he sprawled out on his floor. His carpet had always been really soft to Antonio and he liked to hang out down there, do homework, despite having a perfectly nice desk and bed and a whole lot of other furniture throughout the house he had the opportunity to utilize.

But, speaking of homework, hadn't he had something to do tonight….

Oh shit.

"Oh _shit_." Antonio said aloud this time. "Ohshitohshitohshit!" Antonio scrambled up, tripping over his own feet to reach his desk. He dug around in his backpack until he found the rubric he was looking for.

 **Due Date: April 17**

Yep. Antonio was dead. Antonio was so dead.

A whole essay due tomorrow. A research paper no less. In first period. Kill him.

"Lovino. Lovino." Antonio muttered, fumbling around with his phone and, having found the contact rather easily, put the phone up to his ear to listen as it rung.

"Hey-" Lovino's voice came over the line and, before he could properly get out his greeting Antonio was shouting.

"LOVINO, YOU HAVE TO HELP ME."

And that was how, four hours later, the two were _still_ on the phone, _still_ writing this stupid essay, and feeling like death itself. Lovino hadn't been able to sneak out because his dad was actually home for once, but the two had stayed on the phone and shared docs with one another for physical reference.

"Coffee break." Lovino finally said as Antonio was copying in another source into his EasyBib. The website was a godsend. "I need caffeine."

"Agreed." Antonio said, rubbing his eyes as the final steps to his citing popped up. He would get back to this. Caffeine was really important.

So they each went down to their respective kitchens, talking to one another in low whispers and praying over the line that the whirring of their coffee makers wouldn't wake up any parents. Antonio made his coffee with lots of creams and sugars and grabbed a soda in case more caffeine was needed later. He knew that at that moment Lovino must have been taking his own coffee black, the barbarian.

"Feli bought Skittles. Score." Lovino whispered across the phone as Antonio was making his mad dash back to his room. He almost chuckled at that, but caught himself as he snuck by his mother's door.

Feliciano had quite the sweet tooth and he was very prone on spending his money on cute things and sweets. Skittles, though, had always been something that Feliciano did for his brother, that Lovino knew nothing about. He liked to get them when he noticed Lovino was pulling late nighters or feeling high strung. Antonio wasn't the only one looking out for Lovino.

But Lovino didn't know they were for _him_. No, he probably would have never accepted them if he knew Feliciano was worrying about him like that. Taking a few candies from his brother's stash though? Feli would never notice…

It warmed Antonio's heart. He wondered if all siblings were like that. He doubted it, but it was still nice to consider. Maybe if he and Alfonso had grown up closer they could have been like that.

When he got back to his room, Antonio sprawled onto the floor in front of his laptop, eyeing the citation suspiciously. He sipped at his mug timidly, careful not to spill in his awkward position and switched the phone back to speaker.

"You back?" He asked.

"Yeah. Undetected." Lovino responded, his tone dry and tired but humor still there. "Give me a moment to get some caffeine in my system and then we'll start again."

Antonio readily agreed and sipped again at his coffee. He decided to take advantage of the downtime and chat idly with his friend.

"Good thing this isn't, like, _real_ studying. I wouldn't remember a thing in the morning." This reminded Antonio of something he had looked up a few months ago. "Did you know that a unhealthy sleep schedule can disrupt your ability to learn?"

"Yeah, Toni." Lovino replied. The caffeine had definitely not done its job yet.

"I looked it up - you know, when you were telling me about your psychology class. It said it makes it difficult to store information properly because scientists think your hippocampus - the part of the brain that stores memories - replays stuff that happened throughout the day so it can store it."

"That… does make sense." Lovino replied, seeming to think on this.

"So that's why a lot of stuff you might study really late won't be easy to recall the next day." Antonio continued, "All in all, good sleep can help a lot more than late night studying."

At this Lovino grew silent. Antonio bit his lip, knowing he had struck a nerve. It was what he had been aiming for, but now he just wanted to get away from the topic. He knew Lovino knew this stuff - maybe not the specifics, but he knew how important sleep was - and he still couldn't sleep at times. Maybe this wasn't the best time to bring this up. Maybe Antonio should have looked for more answers first.

"But what else is new?" Antonio laughed awkwardly, steering the conversation away from this to anything else. "Um, I kissed Emma."

Was it Antonio or had that been a gasp from Lovino's end of the phone? It was so faint that he couldn't be sure. Lovino coughed a little and asked, "Oh, um, really?"

"Uh, yeah…" for some reason it was really weird talking to Lovino about this. It wasn't like he was going to keep it from him, but it also wasn't like it was that big of a deal either. It was _Lovino_. His best friend. Of course he should tell him. "I mean, more like _she_ kissed _me_ , but I guess?"

"Uh, cool…" Lovino said in reply and they both fell into silence. Antonio wasn't sure what he would prefer anymore - the silence after talking about the kiss or the one after talking about sleep patterns.

"Yep." Antonio finally said. "So, you wanna get back to work?"

"Yeah, yeah." Lovino jumped right on this excuse to blow away that conversation, and Antonio saw his cursor race down the page of the doc he was working on. "Alright, yeah, let's."

And the two began to talk again like none of that had ever happened. It almost worked too, if not for the looming weight of it hanging above their heads, but, in time, the two brushed it off. Their coffees gave them the extra boosts they needed to work through the rest of Antonio's paper with them both in a relatively decent mood. They cracked jokes and cursed the existence of research papers in their world and finished at 3:23 in the morning.

But they kept talking to one another afterward, though tired of being awake, neither were tired of the other's company.

And, before falling asleep, still on his phone with his friend, Antonio absently wondered what it would be like to kiss Lovino instead.

* * *

 _ **CV: Eep! Sorry for disappearing, but school is out and I now have freedom. Sweet freedom! I gotta be honest, this part (along with a good chunk of text ahead) was already written. But I**_ **have _to at least look over stuff I publish once before I post it, thus why this took me so long. But the chapter is longer too, so maybe it balances? Hope you like it and the Chamber of Secrets probably was not paced right for how they were discussing while watching. And the overall pace of the story maybe weird too. But, yeah, okay. Shuts up now. Enjoy and thank you everyone for reading, favoriting, following, reviewing!_**


	6. Chapter 6

" _You work too hard." Antonio said to his friend, lying flat on his back with one arm slung over his face. It kept the sunlight off of his eyes but it was also very calming as well. Lying still like that, blocking the world from view made things more tolerable somehow. Not that things weren't 'tolerable' now. He was happy. Antonio was always happy. But happy was kind of draining. Sometimes things just needed to be tolerable._

 _He heard his friend sigh beside him. "You keep saying that."_

" _And you've failed to prove me wrong." Antonio retorted. Lovino said nothing and Antonio should have been happy he'd won the argument. He always won that particular argument though. He sighed._

" _I'm bored, Lovi." Antonio complained._

" _Go do something then." Lovino answered and Antonio doubted he even looked up from his work. Antonio didn't lift his head to find out._

" _I want to do something with yooouuu." Antonio whined, letting his arm fall from his face. His body went completely lax in a show of how 'bored' he was. "Ugghhh."_

" _I'm busy, Antonio. Go chase a squirrel."_

 _Antonio pouted at that. "I'm not twelve anymore, Lovino."_

 _Lovino looked up, cocking an eyebrow. "You're thirteen. You literally chased a squirrel last week."_

 _Antonio sat up, mocking an affronted look. "I've matured!"_

" _Sure you have. Now go play nice and I'll let you know when I'm done here." Lovino shooed him away with one hand, eyes already averting back to the worksheet in front of him._

" _No." Antonio huffed, crossing his arms and, though he would never admit to it, pouting._

 _That drew Lovino's attention. "Ugh, what can I do to get just thirty minutes of peace, Antonio? Just thirty minutes to finish this?"_

 _Antonio perked up. "I've got an idea!" He whipped out his phone, sliding to one of the apps he knew he had. It was a timer. "You get thirty minutes and I get thirty minutes! You get study and I get a friend who will climb trees and chase squirrels with me!"_

" _I thought you'd 'matured'?" Lovino smirked._

" _Well, technically_ you're _still twelve, so I'm just doing a service to your younger, less developed mind."_

 _Lovino rolled his eyes. "You're ridiculous. Alright, deal. Give me my time and I'll give you yours."_

" _Yay!" Antonio cheered, punched in the time, and let the clock begin. He was restless the whole thirty minutes through but he was silent and he let Lovino have his time._

 _And when it was time to chase squirrels, he noticed that Lovino's smile was wider than it had been in months._

 _A little playtime sometimes did wonders._

 _Over the years, Antonio's time dwindled as more and more of it had to be devoted to work, study, the pressures of life, but the time never became any less special to them both._

-/-

 _00:03_

 _00:02_

 _00:01_

 _Beepbeepbeepbeep. Beepbeepbeepbeep._

"Play time!" Antonio exclaimed, sitting up so suddenly that his head swam. When he could see straight again he looked over at his friend.

Lovino was staring at his book with piercing eyes and, honestly, looked quite distraught. His brows were pushed so far down Antonio worried they would stick that way and his frown mirrored their determined crease. He had his elbow resting on his upper thigh, hand tangled in his hair as he thought through whatever tough piece of information he was trying to process.

Antonio frowned something to rival his friend's. "Lovi." He said softly. Lovino didn't respond. "Lovino." He said a little harder. Still nothing. Carefully he brought up his own hand and gently pried Lovino's away from his hurting scalp, smoothing the fist out by massaging the knuckles. Antonio absent-mindedly found himself fixing the hair that was now coming up in spikes before he realized what he was doing and retracting it.

Lovino was still not paying attention, despite his one hand held firmly in Antonio's grip. Antonio reached out and pulled Lovino's face up by his chin, watching his cloudy eyes dissipate and focus on himself instead. "Antonio, I don't think break time is a good idea today." Lovino said, his eyes drawing back down to the book. Antonio brought his face back up and held his hand there.

"Break time, Lovi." He said softly and Lovino's eyes saddened. Antonio steeled himself and let go of Lovino's hand and chin, reaching for the textbook so he could shut it.

Lovino still looked distracted but he asked, "What do you want to do then, bastard?"

Antonio chuckled. Leave it to Lovino to use that at a time like this. "I've been thinking."

"Don't strain yourself." Lovino commented. He was more focused now and Antonio seized the moment, standing up and swooping his friend to his feet.

"Let's go chase the squirrels."

-/-

Antonio would be lying if he said he hadn't thought of kissing Lovino again. He was really curious and, for some reason, Lovino's lips kept drawing his eyes. It was as if the idea was haunting him. It followed him around like a curse or a ghost, whispering these ideas in his brain at the most inconvenient times. Like seriously, he thought about it in the middle of class during lectures, playing dodgeball in gym, even now, chasing freaking squirrels.

Well, perhaps that last one wasn't so odd as the others. Here, he had the object of those illusions right beside him, smiling, laughing, running, and shouting challenging remarks over his shoulder at Antonio. It was hard to keep his mind on the game. It was hard to keep his eyes off Lovino.

And that was what scared him the most.

He had a girlfriend. Emma was smart and sweet and pretty. And Lovino was his best friend. These weren't the feelings, the thoughts, one had for their best friend. Everything was so complicated now. Those thoughts had complicated everything.

Antonio shook his head. Not now. Now was not the time. This time was for him and Lovino. It was to get Lovino's mind off of his constant anxieties. That was something Antonio could focus on.

So he sprinted after his friend, ready to dart after more of the wildlife if the situation called for it, but mostly just content on chasing after Lovino.

-/-

It was magical how clear Lovino's eyes were that afternoon.

Having grown tired of racing around the park, having forgotten about squirrels and simply playing an unofficial game of tag, they had scrambled up their tree. They sat side by side on one of the sturdier boughs, the new spring foliage concealing them from the world below. It was their own little world in the encasement of those leaves and Antonio had lost himself in the amber of Lovino's eyes.

He had spent years deciphering Lovino's emotions, spotting subtle differences and changes in his features. He was always a puzzle, a map of too many sentiments to hold onto a single one. As Antonio chased after one emotion that etched the boy's face, a brand new one would surface to slip into its place, one as equally complicated and far too impossible to describe.

The spurts of emotions were so plain to see now that Antonio wondered how he'd never seen it before. He saw Lovino's fascination as his gaze swept the greenery around them. He saw the traces of amusement still lining his friend's smile from their racing around the park and the comfortable demeanour Antonio could see in his relaxed shoulders. He was always so anxious - around other kids at school, around strangers. It was rare to see him so comfortable in his own skin.

No guesswork or careful interpretations were required in those moments. Antonio couldn't believe how simple it was to read Lovino when the task had been a challenge to him since they had met. Was it now that Lovino was unguarded or that what he was feeling was uncomplicated and clear?

Antonio couldn't imagine a day that Lovino was anything less than complex. But he could revel in the simplicity of those moments. Lovino looked beautiful-

"What are you looking at?" Lovino's voice shook him out of his thoughts and Antonio blinked blankly at his friend.

He smiled sheepishly and responded, "Hm, nothing." Antonio swung his legs in the open air below them and let his eyes wonder around their surroundings. When they were naturally drawn back to his friend, Lovino was still watching him. He was frowning now, eyes fogged over again. Antonio ignored the disappointment sinking to the bottom of his heart.

Lovino looked toward the ground, swinging his own legs a bit. His shoulders were hunched just the slightest and, when Antonio connected Lovino's eyes to where was looking, he found that what was on his friend's mind was a textbook.

Antonio bit his lip. "Lovi-"

But the ever perceptive Lovino spoke up too, ignoring what could only be a plea from Antonio. "I should get back to," He gestured with his hands toward the ground, refusing to make eye contact, "You know."

Antonio could only respond with his thoughts and a helpless look in his eyes. _Please, Lovi_. He pleaded in his mind as the other began his descent from the tree. _This constant work shouldn't be your life. No one wants it to be. Your brother worries about you. I worry._

Lovino sank back into his spot on the grass, pulling his textbook in his lap. Antonio watched, still in the tree. He tried not to look dejected. He had to be happy. It was best. It protected him and it protected Lovino. No guilt. No bad feelings.

 _You do enough. You do more than enough._ Antonio thought, wondering if his friend would hear if he just thought loud enough. His shoulders slumped, knowing that wasn't possible. It was no use. Lovino's movements were stiff as he scanned the pages, eyes averted. He knew Antonio's eyes were still on him. _Stop losing sleep. Stop forgetting to eat. Stop working yourself like this._

Antonio wished he could say these things aloud. For the countless time, Antonio wanted to tell Lovino plain and clear. He had tried, but it still wasn't enough. He did his best to take care of his friend, but it wasn't enough. Because, if he took it too far, it was possible he could lose Lovino. His friend could get tired of his constant nagging and leave. Then he would be alone.

And Antonio didn't want to be alone.

* * *

 ** _CV: Hello! So, this chapter is a lot shorter than my others, but looking back at what I've written I thought it was best paced this way. So here's some cute Spamano goofing around at the park. Not sure why they're terrorizing small animals, but they aren't trying to catch them so yeah._**

 ** _Thank every one of you respectively for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing this fic!_**


	7. Chapter 7

"You don't believe changing the way she speaks, acts, dresses alters Eliza?"

"No. Why the hell do you? Her personality isn't wrapped up in that shit. Her person doesn't change when the outside does."

"But is it not our words and actions that define us as people?" Francis insisted.

Lovino gestured widely as he spoke. "It's a part of it, but what about all that crap people say about what's on the inside is what counts? Personality is mainly defined as our character."

"But our character drives us to say and do things." Francis leaned in closer to his computer, engrossed in their conversation just as Lovino was. "So it is possible her actions morphed her person in some way."

Lovino shook his head, practically scoffing. "No. No, personality is more than that and it takes way more to change it. It's all of Eliza's experiences and upbringing and genetic bullcrap that makes her what she is. Acting like a "proper lady" for a few months _can't_ change her that drastically!"

"But it can change her!" Francis exclaimed. "That was the question: does it change her personality? Even if only by a little, she is quite changed."

"It's her _being_. Her _being_. Who she is. Not simply the way she feels or thinks or talks, but those parts of her that won't ever change! At the beginning of the play she demands respect from Higgins because the man's an asshole and, at the end when he's _still_ an asshole, she hasn't changed her stance one bit."

"Oh, but she was quite submissive in the middle acts, was she not? Anyone could see that when she went to fetch Higgins' slippers. She did it without much thought to it and the audience plainly sees she's become quite accustomed to this role on Wimpole Street."

"Convenience!" Lovino nearly shouted, wanting to shake Antonio's computer. "If you lived with someone who forgot where they'd put their shit half the time, wouldn't you grow accustomed to just going to get it instead of making it into a big deal? Knowing Higgins the conversations probably went 'Huh, where'd I put those slippers?' and Eliza would say 'On the stairs.' and he'd probably go 'No. I would never have put them there. They must be somewhere else.' and she'd _insist_ 'No. I saw them on the damn stairs.' and he'd still just shake his head. 'Nope. Can't be on the stairs. I know better and won't listen even if you have _literally seen them with your own eyes_.'"

"So people simply cannot change, is what you are saying. Characters are innately good. Innately bad…"

"Ugh. No, you baguette loving-" Lovino rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. It released none of the building tension in his shoulders. "A person can change. It just takes a lot more than some shallow shit like changing an accent. Costume changes aren't disposition changers. It's like saying an actor _is_ the person they play on the screen."

"You've never heard of method acting, Lovino?" Francis asked. "The actor _becomes_ who they are portraying, even off screen."

"Temporarily. They don't _become_ them; they get into the character's head." Lovino argued. "My point is: characters are dynamic. It takes an impactful experience or change in mindset to do it though. When someone all of a sudden "changes" from bad to good - or vice versa - they usually attribute this to characteristics they already have but portray them in more positive or negative ways. A manipulative person versus a persuasive one. Someone who convinces people out of their own selfishness against someone who does it for another's benefit." Lovino took a breath, jumping back into his rant before Francis could speak up. "And, hell, I am not going into a rant about the notion of a 'good vs evil' world or the real differences between the ideas of similar personality features in positive and negative light. This conversation is already too long and I am right." Lovino folded his arms and sat back, staring into the computer's screen challengingly.

Francis was never one to back down though.

"What are you guys even talking about this time?" Antonio asked from across the room, smirking at how well his friends were getting along. 'Well'. Yes, seriously, a debate over twentieth century British literature was a stable conversation between the two. If you thought this was heated then you should have seen the two argue about their respective countries' cultures. Cuisine. Fashion. Football. That was where things got dangerous.

Antonio was across the room, sitting at the door to his closet while he shuffled through the mess he kept in there. His mom had tasked him with organizing the thing, so there was now piles across his bedroom floor from where he had cleared the small closet space. Shoes, an old sports bag, a shin guard he had been missing since the end of soccer season, and so much more were all awaiting their turn to be found a respectable place to go in his room.

And, since he had been Skyping Francis while he had been working and Lovino had stopped by not long after, Antonio was saved of a boring day of nothing but chores. Listening to his friends, even if about something he really had no idea of, lessened the pain of the mundane tasks he had been given. They were only missing Gilbert, then all of Antonio's closest friends would be in one place.

"Franny, your mom let me in so I could grace you with my awesome presence!" Suddenly came the familiar voice from his computer, some unseen force answering his thoughts. "Hey, is that Lovino? What's up, shortstop?"

"Ugh, not you!" Lovino complained, sitting back and covering his face with one hand.

"I've missed you and the fact that you are unable to strangle me over the computer too, Lovino. How's life? Where's Toni?" Gilbert asked in his usual arrogant tone, plopping down next to Francis who looked quite annoyed to have been interrupted mid-argument.

"I'm here, Gilbert!" Antonio waved from across the room, only that arm visible to his friends on the computer. Lovino rolled his eyes and shifted the computer so they could talk.

It wasn't long until Antonio had to get back to work. He had tried to convince Lovino to help him, but he should have known that Lovino wouldn't want part in it. _Your fucking work_. He'd said.

Antonio didn't mind all that much though. He had good company after all and that was the best thing he could really ask for. He was content listening to his three best friends in the world talk to one another, adding in his own thoughts whenever he chose. All the while, Antonio was lining his closet with the couple pairs of shoes he owned: tennis shoes, flip flops, that one pair of dress shoes for special occasions. Even his cleats went in the closet at the moment because he'd unpacked his soccer bag during off season so it wouldn't get too smelly - not that it helped too much, but it was always worth a try.

At first, Antonio kept a lookout for the conversations his friends had across the room, not bothered of what they might say so much as how they might react. You see, while Francis and Lovino had the capacity to get along and hold somewhat civilized conversations, as arguable as they both were, Gilbert and Lovino had - how would you say it - no chill.

But, to Antonio's surprise, their voices stayed level with one another. Lovino seemed exasperated at most and Gilbert seemed to have forgotten how much he loved to taunt Antonio's Italian friend. Things were going really well. A shame that had to end.

"Hey, so how's being such a ladies man, Lovino?" Gilbert asked spontaneously. It was a favorite topic of his after once when the two had argued who was the smoother flirter. Lovino hated when Gilbert brought it up, as he had lost that bet. To decide, Gilbert had flirted with Francis while it had been up to Lovino to make moves on Antonio. It had been the cutest thing to watch Lovino turn the darkest shades of red when he'd simply looked at Antonio and given up immediately.

 _Like I would flirt with this idiot. He's not even a girl. It wouldn't count._

Naturally, Gilbert had called that weak and proclaimed himself the champion, never letting the other live it down.

So when Gilbert had asked, Lovino already had a response ready. "How's being such an asshole, Gilbert?"

Antonio was sure the two on the other side of the call could hear his snickers from across the room.

"It has its perks." Gilbert answered cooly.

Lovino huffed and got up. "I'm going to get a drink." He announced then stalked out of the room. Antonio sighed, relieved the argument hadn't gotten out of hand like it so often did. He got up and made his way to his computer. Francis was talking to Gilbert, shaking his head in exasperation, no doubt because of his childish antics. Gilbert still had that self-satisfied look about him.

When Gilbert noticed that someone had appeared on the screen, his smile widened. "Hey, man! Thought you were Lovino back already. How're the chores coming?"

"Oh, you know," Antonio laughed, "They're coming."

"Hey, speaking of ladies," Gilbert said, referring back to his conversation with Lovino moments before, "How's your girl? Still smooching it up and freaking old people out with PDA?"

Antonio laughed lightly, ducking his head a little in embarrassment. "We don't freak people out."

"Ah, but you do do it!" Gilbert said victoriously. Francis rolled his eyes and Antonio wondered who did it more often, him or Lovino.

It was true though. Him and Emma were still kissing. At first it had been this shy thing, each unsure if they should initiate it and when, but as time went by it had become more casual. Kissing Emma was as easy as remembering to brush his teeth - meaning that he forgot at times but it wasn't the end of the world because he did it on most occasions when he was supposed to.

And, wow, once again Antonio wins the best boyfriend of the year award.

And, of course, on top of all of that he still couldn't stop himself from wondering what it would be like to kiss Lovino like that. Yep, definitely best boyfriend.

But was that normal? To want to kiss your best friend? He always wondered these things and never had a clue. When he thought about it he would decide to think on what kissing Francis or Gilbert would be like, but it always seemed so innocent, so platonic when he thought about those two. And thoughts of kissing them never came unbidden. Doing that with Lovino always just _appeared_ in his mind. It was like a really catchy song he just couldn't forget.

And with this thought, Antonio couldn't help but think, what if Lovino _had_ flirted with him that one time? He imagined it would have been cute, even cuter than his downright refusal to try.

Lovino burst into the room, a determined look on his face. "You know what, asshole?" He asked as he stomped up to the computer. "You're on."

The three looked at him, puzzled at the sudden (and unrevealed) challenge. He had his arms crossed across his chest as he looked down at the screen of the two boys who, at present, were across the country.

"Uuum." Gilbert responded. "What?"

"Our bet. I'm going to show you that I can flirt." Lovino said resolutely.

Gilbert lifted an eyebrow. "Our bet from half a year ago?" When Lovino nodded, Gilbert smirked. "Alright. I accept."

When Lovino faced him, Antonio was not prepared. Hadn't this been what he'd just been daydreaming of? Hadn't he wondered about this exact scenario just before Lovino had come in? Why was he so bewildered now that Lovino was there in front of him?

Lovino paused for a moment. He didn't look back toward the computer screen and Antonio knew it was taking a lot from him to keep his embarrassment at bay. The smirking faces of his friends definitely wouldn't have helped, so Lovino was keeping his face forward. He wouldn't look at Antonio either, but at his chest or behind his head. Then he sat up, leveling his head to maintain eye contact, and Antonio could see the fierce determination that resided there.

"Hey," Lovino started, his voice deliberately smooth in a blatantly flirtatious way, "Are you trash because I'd like to- to take you out." He'd coughed on that last part there but, despite this, the pick up line had frozen Antonio in place. How had he ever thought a smooth-talking Lovino would be cute?

Antonio had never blushed so severely in his life.

No one seemed to notice though. Francis and Gilbert were currently too busy laughing their asses off.

"Even your pick up lines are insulting." Francis chuckled, a hand placed over his chest. Gilbert laughed with much more abandon.

"Ah, man. You still fucking loose! Look how red your fucking face is!"

"I'd like to see you fucking try!" Lovino snarled, though still quite embarrassed.

Gilbert merely bowed. "Don't mind if I do." He turned to Francis and did his own, executed much more flawlessly than Lovino's by far. Antonio paid this little attention though because he was still lost to the warm feeling engulfing his body.

"Not fair!" Lovino protested after Gilbert's demonstration. "You're too comfortable around Francis."

"I did it with one of my best friends and you did it with yours." Gilbert smirked. "What's the matter?"

"You probably flirt with Francis all the time for the hell of it. I bet you can't do the same with just anyone." Lovino's voice once again held promise of a challenge. Gilbert happily obliged.

"Then I'll flirt with you instead."

Lovino's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

Gilbert just shrugged his shoulders though. "Why not?"

Lovino looked to be a deer caught in headlights for a moment before he narrowed his eyes. "Alright. Fine."

Gilbert was immediately into it, leaning forward, suggestive look on his face. Antonio expected him to use one of his dirtier lines just to fluster Lovino. He didn't expect this.

"You know," Gilbert said, "If there were no gravity on Earth I would still fall for you."

Antonio watched as Lovino's eyes lit up in surprise. He must have been expecting something along the same lines as Antonio because, once he had processed the words, a red brushed his cheeks. His blushes were never 'light' but, if they could be, this would be it.

Then Lovino stepped up to the challenge.

"Are you a bank?" He asked smoothly and Gilbert raised an eyebrow. He looked interested and Antonio couldn't blame him. He'd never heard this one before.

Lovino's voice suddenly went flat, not a trace of amusement left to spare. "Because I'd like you to leave me a loan."

The room was silent as they all stared at Lovino. His stare blatantly said 'Don't fuck with me' as he continued to watch Gilbert. Then, they all were laughing again.

Antonio let his worries slip to the back of his mind as he carried on with his friends and eventually went back to cleaning his closet. Whenever he looked at Lovino for the rest of the day, the warm feeling in his chest would reappear, along with the recent memory of Lovino flirting with him.

He didn't mind this all that much though. And he didn't let his brain tell him what it could all possibly mean.

-/-

Finals approached again and it was back to the grinding block. There were three days left of school and Antonio, along with most other children at their school, had the fever. They wanted out.

Not Lovino though. Relief wouldn't come to Antonio's best friend until that final bell sounded and he walked out into the warm air of a summer day. This Sunday afternoon before their last week was a lot like Antonio hoped it would be on Wednesday, their final day - sunny with a warm breeze and the world a bright green around them that Antonio hadn't really noticed had appeared during Spring. Their backpacks were weighed down in tons and the two were scouring over any materials they could get their hands on for last minute studying.

Antonio looked up, contemplating if he should dare interrupt his friend's study to ask for help in English, but what he found surprised him. Lovino wasn't looking at a book or any notes. It looked like the other was distracted by something across the park.

Antonio looked over, attempting to follow his gaze. There was nothing of interest over in that area - just an empty field and a couple of people walking the trail that surrounded it. Antonio glanced back at his friend just to make sure and Lovino seemed to catch the movement, breaking out of his daze. He made wary eye contact with Antonio before shifting his gaze back into his lap and the physics book that sat there. It was always that class with this boy. Antonio couldn't wait until Lovino didn't have to bother with it anymore.

He wondered what classes Lovino had decided to take next year and shuddered. Lovino's eyebrows were drawn, looking more anxious than normal. Usually, Antonio would pin this on the fact that he was studying physics, but it seemed as though Lovino wasn't paying attention to the book at all.

"Want to take a break?" Antonio half-mumbled. He bit his lip, wondering how the proposition would go. Finals were always a scary time to interrupt Lovino's study.

To his surprise though, all it took was for Lovino to look up at him, look back down at the book, then push it aside, nodding his head. He stretched his arms behind his back.

Antonio could only stare for a moment before he mimicked his friend's behavior. He lay on his back to rest, sighing as he relaxed.

"I cannot wait for summer." Antonio said, thinking aloud. Friday he would be getting on a plane that was due for California where he would soak up as much sun and time with his friends as possible. Everything was already planned and he had convinced his mom to even let the two come over to stay for a week in New York. He practically had his summer planned out.

"Yeah, should be a blast." Lovino said dully. Antonio looked over. Lovino was on his back too, facing the sky, an unreadable expression on his face from this angle.

"You won't get lonely without me here, will you?" Antonio asked, half-teasing but still curious what his response would be.

"As if, bastard." Lovino paused, as if considering something. Antonio cocked his head. "I talked to my mom."

"Oh." Antonio said. That wasn't what he'd been expecting to hear. "That's great, Lovi; how is she?"

Lovino shrugged. "Doing fine. I've talked to her a few times, but Feli's really the one keeping in touch. He tells me mostly about her."

Antonio nodded, as if hearing all of this was completely normal. He supposed in some cases it really was.

"She wants to see us."

Antonio stayed silent. He peeked over with his eyes.

"So Feli and I are going to Oregon."

Antonio sat up, his mouth gaping. "You're what?"

"We're staying with our grandfather so we won't be with her all the time. And we'll be there for about two weeks." Lovino didn't sound very happy about this, but Antonio didn't know what to say.

"Wow." Was all he could come up with.

"Yep." Lovino replied. "Wow."

"Are you nervous?"

Lovino looked at him, trying to play off an irritated look. Antonio could see his anxiousness plainly and gave him his own look that said 'I can read you like a book'.

Lovino sighed. "Yeah."

Antonio nodded. "You know, I think it's great you're going to see her. I mean, it sounds really sudden, but you haven't seen her in so long. I'd try to look at it like a new chance, if I were you."

"A new chance." Lovino snorted. "For her to walk away?" Lovino paused and Antonio could tell he hadn't meant to say that aloud.

"I get it you're still pretty sore about it all and I would be too." Antonio said. Lovino gave him a look. "But, seriously Lovi, aren't you curious to see what she's like? How's she doing?"

Lovino shrugged and mumbled a little.

"Plus, you have to be there for Feliciano too, right? I bet you he's not missing out on this."

Lovino sighed again. "I just hope he's not disappointed."

Antonio thought over this for a moment. Feliciano had never known their mother and, while the same could be said for Lovino, Antonio knew that Lovino remembered her at least a little. Lovino had told him once that his mother used to hold his hand while he spun and spun and spun around until he was dizzy and sometimes had to make him stop or he would get sick. He said she would always laugh when she saw the disoriented look on his face after he halted on his heels, swaying back and forth slightly and grinning up at her.

 _That's what my dad says, at least._ Lovino had told him afterwards, but his eyes told a different truth. One of memory and love. He may not remember all that he had told Antonio, but Antonio would bet anything some of it held in his mind somewhere.

His mother had loved him and Antonio knew she must have loved Feliciano just the same. She had still left and Antonio still had no idea why, but, if any of those stories were true, Antonio thought things could be mended between mother and sons.

"That's enough of that bullshit." Lovino said, sitting up. He pulled his notes toward him and brushed the conversation off. Antonio frowned but couldn't say he hadn't expected something of the sort.

Antonio didn't go back to his own work though. He wasn't Lovino. He couldn't do so much.

He could only pray that summer would come soon enough.

-/-

Three days and six exams later they were free.

"This calls for celebration!" Antonio exclaimed, walking beside his friend away from the prison in which they'd escaped…

School. He'd meant school.

Lovino, as was expected for the start of summer, looked relaxed for once. Tired, but relaxed. It was as if all tension and worries had floated away into the clear summer sky. Or like all that weighed him down had been shed as he'd stepped through the threshold into freedom. Like his demons had been held at bay by some unseen force that receded into the school's walls during the summer.

Yeah, Antonio was feeling a bit light himself if you didn't catch on. Leave it to the day after his English essay was due for him to suddenly develop a flowery repertoire.

But, back to the present, yeah?

Lovino was facing the sun, eyes closed as he soaked it all in. Antonio wondered if it was the heat or the feeling of summer and freedom around them he was savoring. When Antonio had spoken however, he'd peeked over at him through one eye.

"What?" Lovino let his head drop and questioned Antonio with both amber eyes.

"We should do something! Don't you think we deserve it after this grueling year? We were worked to the bone, so I think we should reward ourselves!"

"You know, high school will just get harder the further we go." Lovino said.

"Then I do not look forward to that! But for right now…"

And that's how the two came to be sitting across from one another in the booth of a local restaurant. They had sat next to a window where they watched people pass by on foot to visit other shops in the cute outdoor shopping mall they were located in. Antonio and Lovino were both sipping at the treats they had each gotten, chatting aimlessly, but mostly just appreciating the down time. They had been much too busy as of late to ease their exhaustion.

Antonio found himself examining the boy across from him while Lovino's attention was still to his left, watching life occur on the other side of the window as if it was simply passing him by. He had his chin in one hand, elbow propped on the table. The other hand stirred his straw slowly through the thick mixture of his cup. Antonio was still sort of appalled that his best friend had chosen strawberry of all things, but, when he thought about it, he knew he couldn't have expected any less. It kind of suited Lovino in a way. He wondered if the same could be said for him and his own selection of chocolate.

Milkshakes. It had been a milkshake sort of day, they'd decided. But, man, shouldn't everyday be?

Lovino's eyebrows scrunched inward and Antonio frowned. So soon?

"When do you think our scores will be out?" Lovino asked, face still to his left.

"In a few days?" Antonio replied, unsure himself.

Lovino hummed to himself and, after a period of silence in which Antonio hoped the other would drop it, spoke up again. "How do you think you did?"

Antonio fought everything in him not to sigh. It wasn't Lovino's fault he thought so much about this stuff. His mind just somehow always ended up back to the topic of grades, study, school. It just… got a bit much at times. And at least he was trying his best to keep it casual.

Antonio mentally shook himself. _You're a supportive friend, Antonio_. He told himself. _You always make people feel better. So do it now. Come on. Come on. Come on._

"Alright. We did study a lot." Antonio offered his friend a smile. He'd avoided asking the same in response for a reason.

Lovino nodded absently. Before he could stress any longer, Antonio added, "And I'm sure you did too."

He finally looked over, doubt etching his features. Antonio sent him a look that pleaded 'listen to me'. Silently, Lovino nodded. That could mean anything, but Lovino changed the topic. Antonio was glad for that.

"So why aren't you celebrating the last day with your girlfriend?" Lovino asked. It wasn't totally out of the blue; they'd talked about her before, but it took Antonio off guard for some reason. Whenever he was with Lovino, it was like nothing else existed.

Antonio shrugged. "We didn't really have anything planned."

"But you're leaving in a few days." Lovino said, as if pointing something obvious out. Antonio didn't follow.

"Yeah…?"

Lovino sighed and rolled his eyes. "Don't you want to see her before you're gone for a month? That's what couples do, don't they?"

"Oh."

To be honest, Antonio hadn't thought that far ahead. Usually in their relationship Emma was the one deciding things. Where to go. What to do. When to see each other and for how long. Now that he really thought about it, what had he done for their relationship? Sure, he sometimes paid for different things they did and he'd remembered anniversaries and stuff, but was that it? Was that "what couples do"?

"You must really like her, don't you?" Lovino asked, pulling Antonio from his thoughts. Antonio looked up. "I mean, you've been together for a while."

Antonio smiled sheepishly. "It's been two months."

Lovino shrugged his shoulders from where he was sipping at his milkshake. "Look, from what I've seen so far, there are two types of relationships in high school." He held up a finger, punctuating reason number one. "The couple that was together for such a short amount of time that no one even knew they were a thing until after they'd broken up." Another finger up, as if he was throwing a peace sign. "And the couple that's together for practically all four years. Maybe even beyond."

At this Antonio's face must have done something funny without him knowing because Lovino chuckled.

"Don't freak out, idiot. I doubt high school relationships last past the four years most times and, really, I'd worry for you if it did." Then Lovino blushed and looked down, sputtering. "I- I mean! Not that Emma is bad or anything! I'm just saying, the chances aren't high… for it to…" Lovino cleared his throat, throwing his gaze once again out the window. "Yeah."

It was Antonio's turn to chuckle at the other. "I know what you mean, Lovi."

They lapsed into silence again. They were good at that. Silence wasn't difficult for the two or awkward like other people. It was simply a space in time where they could take their time and not worry about the other, because Antonio knew Lovino was just as comfortable in their silences as he was.

"I mean it though." Lovino said. "You really like her."

"What do you mean by that?" Antonio asked, licking some whipped cream from his straw.

"Hm… I don't know. I just mean, you text her a lot and you guys go out, like, every weekend… and she makes you smile too."

This had Antonio raise his eyebrows. "Makes me smile?"

"Yeah." Lovino smiled a little. He looked completely serious for once. "Remember that day Mrs Jones took your phone because she caught you smiling down at it? You were texting Emma, weren't you?"

Antonio blinked, waiting for his mind to catch up. Oh yeah… that had been when they were fighting. Emma had asked if he'd have work after school. "She… was." Antonio said, though something seemed a little off when he remembered it.

Lovino nodded, expecting this and slightly satisfied he had been right. "You guys have a good thing going."

After that the conversation dropped off. Lovino seemed content to finish his milkshake in silence while people-watching out the window. Antonio, on the other hand, seemed to be puzzling something together.

He was forgetting something. Something about that day and the way he was trying to remember it seemed wrong…

He remembered looking down at his phone, reading Emma's message. She'd winked at him from across the classroom, slick so the teacher wouldn't have noticed. And he'd been about to text back when he'd thought of soccer… no, he'd been thinking of soccer before that… no, he'd also thought if it after…

Because he'd been looking at the little charm on his phone - the one Lovino had given him.

And then he'd smiled.

Not because of Emma, but because of Lovino.

Because of Lovino.

Because of _Lovino_.

Oh shit.

* * *

 ** _CV: Ooo, what exactly is it that Antonio is thinking? Is he finally... maybe... realizing something!? We can only hope. So the argument at the beginning was about the book Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw. It was based off of a question I had in class, but this was a month or two ago so I can't remember the exact details. Reading over it though, I kind of want to make changes to the argument, but figured abstract ideas are already hard enough to convey so I left it. I'd love to hear thoughts on the topic if you've got any though! Come nerd out about British Literature with me~_**

 ** _Thanks, you guys, for keeping up with this story!_**


	8. Chapter 8

Smiling because of his best friend was natural, Antonio had decided. It was just _smiling_. Feeling the happiest when around his best friend was definitely natural. Being protective of him and feeling sad when he was sad, happy when he was too, were all things _perfectly_ natural between two best friends who'd known each other for years. Heck, he'd already decided thinking about _kissing_ Lovino was alright, so why was _smiling_ suddenly such a weird thing?

He'd already been in California for four days when he'd decided he was obsessing.

It had taken a lot less for Francis to say he was. And Antonio hadn't even told him what he was obsessing _about_.

"Please, mon ami. Let me help. Whatever it is, tell dear Francis and he will give you all the answers to make it better. I _am_ an expert at love, after all."

Antonio's head had snapped straight up after hearing Francis mention that word. Love? No. Nope. _Not_ going there.

"What?" Antonio had exclaimed, not at all trained in the art of concealing his emotions. "Why do you say that?"

Francis smiled knowingly. "Antonio. I know these things." Francis shifted to lean closer, attention turned into 'advice-giving' mode. "Tell me, is something going on with Emma?"

Antonio knew he must have looked puzzled at the question. It took a second too late to realize asking about his _girlfriend_ would have been the initial reaction of anyone when concerning 'love problems'. He quickly morphed his expression into something… well, anything else. He wasn't sure what it looked like now, but it was too late. Francis was observing him with an inquiring look, lips pursed and holding out a horrible pause in their conversation.

Antonio was holding his breath when a sudden beat sounded from his phone. The chorus of "F**k Tha Police" by N.W.A. started playing, one of Gilbert's favorite songs. It was always dangerous when Gilbert called. Antonio never knew who would be around.

But it had been this or Yaz and, while Antonio probably would have picked Yaz, Gilbert didn't want people to know he was into that.

Gilbert had the widest musical taste Antonio knew. Most knew of his obsessions with classic rock and heavy German metal, but only his closest friends were aware of his love for Nicki Minaj. Antonio would have preferred his ringtone be Nicki too, or even the scary sounding heavy metal, but Gilbert had just _had_ to pick the one that would scare little kids and their parents when Antonio was looking over tomatoes in the supermarket.

This had to have been the one and only time Antonio was relieved, joyous even, at hearing this ringtone. He immediately scrambled for his phone, pounding the green answer button without even looking at the screen and pressing it to his ear.

"Hey, Gilbert!" He greeted, his voice sounding a bit _too_ happy.

"Toni! Long time no see, buddy!" Gilbert welcomed the enthusiasm, probably not even realizing how overly eager Antonio seemed to be speaking to him.

"How's your grandfather's?" Antonio asked, glancing toward Francis to see the other giving him a disappointed look. Uh oh. A disappointed Francis is definitely something no one wants to see. "Here, Francis is here too." Antonio switched him to speaker.

"Oh, hey, Franny!" Gilbert exclaimed. "It's awesome over here. You wouldn't believe what Ludwig and I have been up to." He sounded slightly sarcastic.

Antonio smiled. Peeking over at Francis again, he saw his attention was now on the phone. _Whew_.

"Let's see…" Gilbert continued, "We went to a laundromat… we did some shopping…" Gilbert sounded as if he was ticking things off of a list. "Oh, and guess what?"

Antonio exchanged a glance with Francis. Francis didn't seem to know what Gilbert was talking about either. They both asked, in chorus, "What?"

"So my granddad owns this shop with another old guy, one of his old friends or something, and he expects Ludwig and I to help out there. I'm actually here right now. Boring, right? Yeah, I thought so until I found out this other guy had grandsons who would be helping out around here too. And you would never guess who the fuck it is."

"Um…" Antonio spoke through the speaker, unsure as to if he was expected to actually guess or not, "Who?"

Then they heard a shuffling on the other end of the line and a shout from someone in the background. "Dude, say something!" They heard Gilbert say. Then came the voice - a voice Antonio would recognize anywhere.

"What the fuck? No! Get away from me, you bastard!"

"Lovino?" Antonio called, unable to quite believe what he was hearing. But it was Lovino alright. He'd know that voice anywhere.

"Here, you're on speaker now." Gilbert was practically cackling. Antonio repeated himself and there was a pause on the other end.

"Wow, it sure didn't take you long." Lovino said. Antonio had a feeling he wasn't talking to him.

"We end up in the same place in a state neither of us live in and you expect me not to tell my friends this immediately. Wow, you're more than just an angry face, aren't you?" Came Gilbert's slightly sarcastic, mostly teasing voice. It sounded like they hadn't been together for very long, but Antonio knew Gilbert must have been grating on Lovino's nerves already. He wished he could tell him that Gilbert would get tired of it sooner or later, but his message would have to come later.

"So, wait, you guys are both working in some shop that your grandfathers own together?" Antonio asked, astounded. What sort of odds had to have been aligned for something like this? What barrier had they broken? Some sort of fourth wall in the fabric of the universe?

Gilbert answered. "Yeah, isn't it crazy?"

"Kill me." He didn't need to elaborate who that was.

Antonio laughed. How were the two going to get along if they were supposed to be _working_ together? One thing was for sure: Antonio wanted to hear all of the stories. He listened to them bicker for a little longer before interrupting.

"So, how's Oregon?" Antonio asked.

"Hell."

"Awesome."

"What are you two doing? Gilbert, aren't you supposed to be sorting?" A deeper, stricter sounding voice asked. Antonio recognized him too.

"Hi, Ludwig!"

Bad idea, apparently.

"Is that Antonio? Gilbert, you should not be on your phone while you are working."

"Awww, West! But I had to tell them I found Lovino! Hey, wait!" The line became muffled for a second. "Give that-" In the background he could hear Lovino laughing.

"That's what you get, jerk!"

"Lovi! Is that anyway to treat someone you've just met?" A higher-pitched voice asked. Feliciano.

"Just met? I wish-"

"West! Give me my phone."

Ludwig sighed, loud and clear. Antonio didn't know why, but somehow he knew Ludwig was holding the device above his head, out of Gilbert's reach.

"You have to sort the shelves, Gilbert."

"Um, should we say bye?" Antonio wondered.

"Toni, don't you dare hang up!" Gilbert shouted, still jumping for the phone.

"Toni? Like Antonio?" Feliciano asked.

"Yes, like Antonio, idiota!"

"Oh, hi, Toni!"

"No. A goodbye should be in order." Ludwig said.

"Oh, goodbye, Toni!" He had a feeling the younger Vargas was waving energetically at the phone.

"Ugh. I guess." Gilbert conceded. "Bye Toni. Bye Francis."

"Okay, I am hanging up-" Ludwig started, only to be interrupted by a hyperactive Italian.

"Wait! Lovi has to say bye!"

"What? No, I don't!"

"That's not very nice to Toni, Lovi." Feliciano pouted. "Pleeeasee, Lovino?"

Antonio joined in, pleased for an excuse to tease his friend. "Pleeeasee!"

"Ugh!" Lovino shouted. Antonio had the image of him throwing down his hands playing in his head, just like he always did when his little brother got his way. " _Fine_."

Pause.

"Bye, bastard."

Antonio smiled softly. He missed Lovino, even if it had only been a few days since he had last seen him. "Bye, Lovi."

"I am hanging up now because we are all neglecting our duties for the sake of this one phone call. Is there anything else?" Ludwig spoke up again.

"Oh, Luddy! Can you help me at the register?" Feliciano asked sweetly. Luddy? Antonio chuckled. Feliciano would have Ludwig around his finger in two days flat.

Ludwig cleared his throat. Antonio smirked. Make that one day. "Of course. Anything else?" Only Gilbert protested, which went unheard. "Okay. Goodbye Antonio and Francis. Gilbert will call you at a later time." Then the line went dead.

Antonio watched the phone for a few seconds longer than necessary afterwards. He still found Feli and Ludwig amusing, but quickly his thoughts had turned back to the quiet goodbye Lovino had given him. How he missed his voice. How was it that he missed Lovino so much now when back in December and every holiday since they'd met their time apart had been a piece of cake?

Antonio looked up finally and found Francis' gaze, wondering if he found the whole thing as amusing as Antonio had. He was met with a skeptical look though, and Antonio knew immediately that he was not off the hook.

After giving his friend a somewhat uneasy smile, he pocketed his phone and stood up. "You hungry?"

And that was the end of that conversation. For now.

-/-

Those days in California were sweltering. Walking along the boardwalks and shopping centers and on the hot hot sand of the beach itself proved more work than it was cut out for. Antonio _really_ wanted to enjoy his time in his home state, but the heat was seriously making it difficult.

Air conditioning was a great thing and so was Francis' mother for keeping it on twenty-four seven. But they couldn't stay in the house forever. That was why, at the moment, the two were sitting under the umbrella at one of the outdoor tables of a cafe. It had been just their luck that every single one inside had been taken.

Francis, being the diva he was, protested any notion that said he was able to sweat. He had his hair tied back and a large pair of sunglasses on his face, leaning back in his chair in a way that blatantly showed how the sun was sapping away his very will to live. Francis only had enough energy to not look like a complete slob out in public, unlike the friend sitting across from him.

Antonio had never cared as to his impression on other people. A considerable part of the reason why he seemed so dead to the world at the moment. He was lying facedown on the table in front of him, sprawled, as to locate each body part as far as possible from the others, hoping that would somehow counteract the heat. His Coke remained unopened so he could press the perspiring can against the back of his neck and he had ditched his normal short sleeves shirt long ago in favor of walking around in one of those tank tops with the huge gaps for arm holes. If there wasn't a "No shirt, no shoes, no service" policy at the cafe they were at, he wouldn't have worn the shirt at all.

California was a lot hotter than Antonio remembered in the summer. Even if Gilbert had been there with the two, Antonio doubted the three of them would have gotten up to much. Instead, Gilbert was in Oregon, living it up in some air conditioned shop and working beside Lovino Vargas. They got calls every now and again from them, usually from Gilbert's phone where he'd force Lovino to say hi, but mostly it was Gilbert talking about how unawesome being in Oregon was and how irritating Lovino was. From the texts Antonio got from Lovino, he was saying the same things about Gilbert.

But texts from Lovino weren't the only ones going through his phone during those weeks.

 **Emma** : Miss you xoxo

Antonio looked at it but didn't reply. He could do that tonight when the sun wasn't sucking him dry. When he looked up though, he noticed Francis was watching.

He didn't say anything, but, then again, he didn't have to.

"It's just Emma." Antonio explained. He'd felt like he was walking on thin ice around Francis these past weeks with how things were going. Not that he had any clue as to what was really going on himself.

 _Nothing_. He repeatedly thought. _Nothing is going on_.

So nothing it was. He wasn't thinking about Emma and if she really made him happy. He wasn't thinking about how far away Lovino was and that he and Gilbert were probably having fun together even if all the while they hated each other. He most definitely was not thinking about how Lovino smiled or how he still wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

 _Ugh. This is useless. I just need to stop thinking altogether. Shouldn't be too hard. Most people say I don't anyway._

"Antonio." Francis spoke, sounding drained for more than one reason. Antonio wanted to attribute it all to the sun, but some of the exhaustion in his voice was probably from putting up with the tension between them since he'd gotten there. Francis was more than astute when it came to reading other people and he had known from the start that something was up with Antonio.

"Yes?" Antonio answered, looking up and placing his Coke on the table.

Francis sighed. Did he always do that a lot or had it just been more frequent because of recent events? "This cannot go on any longer."

Antonio decided to play dumb. Oh, it really could go on longer. "What can't go on longer?"

Francis gave him his 'do not test me' look. When one got that look from Francis, they knew it was serious. Antonio gulped.

"I am your friend, Toni and, though I do respect your privacy, I cannot help but intrude after this has been upsetting you for so long." Francis was putting his foot down. "You do not even have to tell me it all. Just let me help."

Antonio felt guilty. This vacation was supposed to have been about having fun. Now Antonio had ruined it because of his reluctance to speak to one of his bestest friends about a problem he was having. A silly problem that shouldn't have even existed. Something Antonio should have been able to shove out of his thoughts as soon as it had taken root there, plucked it out like a weed and not let it have grown into this frightening flower he couldn't control.

"Do not give me that guilty look." Francis said. "Whatever it is does not warrant such a look. Your problems are completely valid and it is your right to keep them from me. I am simply demanding them from you now because I am tired of waiting. So, give them up." Francis waved with his fingers, motioning as if he should come forth and present each of his problems in a little gift box for him. It made Antonio snort.

"Alright." Antonio gave in. He was smiling though and, though he still felt apprehensive and a tad guilty, he held his head up. "You know I can't keep things from you for too long, Francis."

Francis laughed shortly. "I was surprised you held out so long this time, mon ami."

But Antonio wasn't quite convinced himself that he was ready to completely concede.

"You see," Antonio started, scratching his neck, "I've been thinking…" What could he possibly say? _I can't stop thinking of Lovino. I know I should be more interested in Emma, but I can't help wondering what he's doing and thinking of his smile and dreaming of kissing him. He's my bestfriend, but sometimes- sometimes-_

No. Antonio shook his head. No. He couldn't even bring himself to _think_ everything, much less say it.

"I don't know if Emma makes me happy."

Francis' eyebrows leaped. "Oh?"

Antonio averted his gaze. "Um… yeah." He twiddled his thumbs in his lap, ready for the conversation to be over already, but there was also something nice about it. This was what best friends were for. You had someone to lean on and someone who will hear out your problems and do their best to help you with them. And the best part was, you would do the same in return without a second thought. It had been forever since he'd talked to Francis like this. Actually, it had been too long since he'd talked to _anyone_ about a problem. He turned to Lovino constantly about school work and parent troubles, but emotions never really entered the picture.

"I mean, we're boyfriend and girlfriend, so I should be happy with her, right? And I'm not _unhappy_. I don't know, I guess I expected a relationship to be a bit different?"

Francis shook his head. "Not at all, Antonio. A relationship is what you define it to be." Antonio blinked and Francis elaborated. "You should be with someone because it's what you _want_ , not because it is expected or it seems like an okay thing. Romantic relationships are special - a bond that is rare to share."

"Aren't all relationships like that though?" Antonio asked and it was Francis' turn to look puzzled. "Every relationship is unique, right?"

A strange look passed across Francis' features. "I always forget truly how smart you are under that absent face of yours."

After a beat, he spoke again. "So, is there anything else you wanted to talk about?" Francis asked, a suspicion nestled in his voice. Antonio knew he was only trying to help, and, really, he had, but this was as far as he could go today. Francis knew there was something else, but he would have to wait a bit longer.

Antonio faced down on the table again, placing the can back into place. "Nope."

He heard Francis sit back. Antonio looked up.

"Hey, Francis." Francis looked back up. Antonio smiled. "Thanks."

-/-

Whenever he was in California, it was normal for Antonio to visit his father. Sometimes it was once during the whole stay. Sometimes the whole time. It mostly depended on his father's availability. Antonio loved his father, don't get him wrong. He also knew his father was a good man, though perhaps with his priorities a bit wonky. There was no denying Mr Fernandez was a bit of a workaholic. That was one similarity Antonio and Lovino had in regards to their dads, but Antonio was happy to say that his own father was a bit more dependable, more caring, more fatherly, than the Vargas' dad.

It made Antonio feel a bit guilty at times to have both a mother and father that cared for him in such a way. And even more guiltier that he was secretly relieved. He wished Lovino and Feliciano could have what he did, but he would never trade the love of his family for the world.

So he did the next best thing. He shared the love he had from his family with the Vargas brothers.

They had met his dad maybe once or twice when he'd come to visit California in the past, so it wasn't quite the same as the relationship the two had with Ms Carriedo, but Antonio thought that at least there was _some_ adult that cared for the two. And, if Mr Fernandez had been around to see Lovino and Feliciano more often, he knew his father would have taken an immediate liking to them both; even if all the while Lovino was loathe to give up his abrasive attitude.

His father was great and Antonio was excited to see him, if not from the fact that he hadn't seen him since Christmas, then just to be able to get away from Francis for a while. It really had become awkward to avoid conversations with Francis about Antonio's "relationship problems" since he was with him all the time. He was his host, his friend, the matchmaker he certainly had not asked for. Francis was a good guy, but Antonio wished he wasn't for a few days.

His dad was in a great mood when Antonio arrived and, though Antonio was excited to see him too, he thought that it may have been just a bit too much. It wasn't like he was _faking_ it or anything. He was just _really really_ happy to see him.

It was kind of nice, he thought, in a weird please-stopping-bouncing-a-mile-a-minute kind of way.

When he was younger, people often said he got his energy from his dad's side.

Antonio was just happy that he hadn't been referred to the key under the potted plant on the porch for once upon arrival in the case that his dad hadn't made it home from work just yet. That happened more than Antonio would like to admit, but, while annoyed, he always forgave his dad in the end. He was a forgiving kind of guy when it came to the people he loved.

He'd been known as quite the opposite to others though.

Antonio took joy in the fact that his dad was there to greet him at the door and he wouldn't be heating up a frozen pizza from the back of the freezer alone for his dinner that night. He was accustomed to looking after himself because his mom worked a lot too - though, at a job that paid quite a lot less than the one his father obsessed with - but it was different with his dad. It wasn't like Antonio was in California every other weekend like other divorced families. One would think his dad would want to _spend time_ with him before he went home, back to New York all the way across the country.

And, yeah, his dad loved spending time with him and took time off of work to do so, but a workaholic was still a workaholic and the constant checks on papers from his office or stepping out to take a phone call really took a lot of time from the limited supply they had.

Other than the constant bounciness and broad smile, another reason Antonio was clued into his father's good mood was for the fact that he had that glint in his eye. The one he had gotten so much more often back when Antonio was little. The same glint Antonio had seen when he'd taught him to ride a bike or when Antonio had opened the present of his first soccer ball or when he'd steal Antonio a cookie from the jar when his mom wasn't looking.

It was so rare nowadays that Antonio had done a double take, then triple take, just to make sure it was there. And indeed it was. Antonio didn't want to get his hopes up, but it was already too late. He was even more excited to see his dad now and was eager to find whatever it was that had given his father the _Glint_.

Thus was how Antonio went from a good mood at coming to see his father to a great mood. He knew it was silly, but it was as if he was living for a different purpose now. Just in those limited moments, standing at the front door to his father's house, under the joyous, mischievous, glint in his eye. Antonio could do anything and he _would_ do anything to keep his father happy like that.

It sounded pathetic. It sounded weak. It sounded a bit extreme. But parental approval affected the best and the worst alike and Antonio was victim to it like any teenager would be.

He wouldn't do _anything_ for that approval, but, damn, if it didn't feel like it. He was a teenager, not a mindless drone.

So, instead of hiding out in his room - yeah, he had a room at his father's house. Antonio was never there, but his father could afford it and so kept it. It was those little things that showed how his father cared- Antonio ditched his bag there and went to the living room, where he found his father setting up music on his sound system.

"Hey." His dad waved, scanning the collection of CDs on the shelf. It was a bit old-fashioned, but Antonio's father had always done things a little slower than the rest of the world. He was the type of guy who would keep all of their files on paper copies, neatly sorted in a filing cabinet. Antonio wondered how he was such a successful businessman.

"Hey." Antonio replied, collapsing on the sofa. It was cloth and slightly worn, like it had been used softly over a long period of time. That made sense. Most days of the year his father lived alone. Antonio imagined him sitting here at nights, maybe eating the small dinner for one he'd made and watching the baseball game on TV. It was kind of sad.

"Any requests?"

Antonio shook his head and his father made a selection, popping it into the player and moving over to the couch himself. He lounged with one arm slung behind it, a classic dad move in Antonio's opinion.

"So, how are things?" He asked, an easy smile on his face. For someone who worked all the time, when his father was home, he really was home.

Antonio shrugged. He had no problem talking to his dad. It was easy to find things to talk about. But when it was about things actually _happening_ in his life, Antonio could never think of anything of interest. "Alright. I have an A in English."

"That's great; you're a smart kid, Antonio." He grabbed the remote, turning the music down just a little. "So high school is treating you alright?"

Antonio nodded. Their conversation continued on, back and forth as his father asked him questions or commented on a story or swapped some high school or college memory of his own. Antonio also asked questions - how his father was, how was the company, if that Chinese restaurant was still open on 50th. Antonio told him how Francis was doing, how crazy it was Gilbert's and Lovino's grandfathers knew each other, how mom was. Antonio's parents never minded when he talked about them to one another. They were quite mature for a pair of divorcees. They knew it was unfair to expect Antonio to shy away from talking about them because they strived to encourage him to speak of anything with them.

Antonio and his dad talked late and even moved the conversation to the kitchen where his dad prepared dinner. Antonio offered, as he always did, to help, but, like _he_ always did, his dad refused, saying Antonio's company was enough help as it was. "It keeps me from getting bored and burning the vegetables." He joked.

Antonio _did_ set the table though and his dad brought over dinner, placing it and sitting down while Antonio exclaimed that he'd forgotten to get drinks. He'd come back with two glasses of water and, over dinner, they'd chatted more. If the two Fernandezes had anything in common, it was their ability to talk for hours. Extroversion was hereditary in this family.

When it got late the two decided it was time to retire and they both disappeared in their rooms, Antonio's father promising omelettes in the morning. Antonio stayed up late - unintentional, he swears! - texting Lovino who told him about all the crazy happenings in his grandfather's store and how "stupid" Gilbert was all the time and how fascinated Feliciano seemed with Gilbert's brother. Antonio was sure it was the early hours of the morning when, staring at the bright screen of his phone in the complete darkness of his room, Lovino finally ended their many hour long conversation.

Lovi: Idiot, I have work tomorrow and you kept me up! Stop making my phone buzz constantly and go to sleep!

Antonio just smiled. Years ago a text like that might have caught him off guard, but he knew Lovino too well now. Antonio might have been keeping him up, but he sure wasn't angry about it. And, if he really wanted to, Antonio knew he could silence his phone or even sleep through the buzzing, depending on how tired the boy was.

Antonio yawned. Well, even so, they might as well go to bed. He was spending the day with his father tomorrow and Antonio doubted Lovino was lying about going to his granddad's store. He'd probably need all the rest he could if he had to deal with Gilbert. Or restraint to not throttle Ludwig if he and Feli had the same shift again.

Me: alright lovi~ im sleepy too so i will text you tomorrow. good night!

Antonio sent it and plugged in his phone, placing it on his bedside table. He let his eyes wander around the shadows of the room until his phone rung again. He practically dove for it, forgetting about the exhaustion that had been gradually creeping over him.

Lovi: Night

A single word but Antonio was smiling like a complete idiot and holding his phone to his chest. He fell asleep with that warm feeling in his chest that he seemed to be getting a lot lately.

He slept pleasantly for a few hours. It felt like years with how deeply his slumber went. He was only stirred when his father shook him.

"Toni. Toniii."

Antonio cracked open his eyes against the dim light of day peaking through the thick curtains of his room. His dad had a hand on his shoulder, gently rousing him. Antonio mumbled a bit and his father chuckled.

"Toni, I just have to go into work for a few hours, okay?" He whispered. Antonio was slow to process this, but when his brain caught up he frowned. "You sleep in and we'll do something when I get home."

Antonio nodded silently, feeling like a little kid again. He didn't want to face this. He wanted to burrow his head back into his pillow and forget the world.

So that's what he did.

He probably should have known something like this would happen.

-/-

Antonio was jostled awake by the sound of a car horn.

Now, Antonio is a pretty deep sleeper so he doubted he really heard the first beep. He was fairly sure he'd heard the second, but that was only a slight memory he could recall. The third made him throw his pillow over his head like only the people in movies did. It did not muffle the noise as well as he'd hoped.

The fourth honk, that was what prompted Antonio to drag himself out of bed and haul his butt to the window. Antonio _could_ be a morning person. He could. Today was not one of those days.

So Antonio ripped the curtains aside at his window, not exactly sure what he planned to do if he found the source of that horrible noise, but dead set on this search. What he found took the shape of a red beat up car in their driveway. Someone was sitting inside it but Antonio's eyes were still too bleary to focus. When they at last adjusted to the bright rays of the late morning, Antonio saw that it was in fact his father down there.

Antonio was more confused than ever. "Is he already back from work?" He inquired aloud. His dad waved enthusiastically, not paying mind to the commotion he was causing nor the attention he was receiving from disgruntled neighbors. It was the weekend and Antonio could bet that most of them had probably been sleeping in. "Sorry neighbors." Antonio said as he sprinted to his bedroom door, down the stairs, and out to his dad's front yard. His father was already waving at him wildly to come over.

He finally stepped out of the car where he'd had one door open already as he was honking the horn. He then brandished his arms out, motioning to the car as if to show it off.

"Uh, hey, dad." Antonio said, not at all understanding what was going on. He was standing in the middle of the lawn, barefoot and pajamaed and woken from a rather nice slumber.

" _Hey, dad_?" His dad repeated. He sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes for effect. "That's all?"

"Ummm…" Antonio blinked, as if that could be his answer. Perhaps it would clue his father into how clueless he truly was.

Another eye roll from his father. Antonio couldn't get over how young he was acting. Sure, his dad was usually pretty lax in the parenting stuff, but this was hyperactive. A lot like how he'd been acting last night when he'd first welcomed him in.

Another flourish from his father and a "Tada!" He was waiting for his reaction.

"Nice… car?" Antonio responded.

This didn't deter his father in the slightest. He smiled and shook his head. "You get that from your mother." He then walked forward, looked Antonio straight in the eyes, even grabbed his shoulders, and said plainly. "Antonio, this is your car."

It took approximately three seconds for this to cut through the layer of Antonio's mind wrapped completely in obliviousness. "Really?"

His dad nodded, an uncontrollable grin plastered across his face.

" _Really_?"

More nodding, getting more enthusiastic by the second.

" _My_ car?"

" _Your_ car."

Antonio was going to freeze from shock soon if his father hadn't waved in his face. "Wanna try her out?"

Antonio needed no other prompt to sprint to the driver's seat. If he had been wearing shoes, he would be bouncing right out of them.

While he got a feel for the driver's seat, playing with the wheel and toggling buttons and adjusting the mirror and seat, his dad circled around and took his spot in the passenger seat. He watched his son in amusement while Antonio continued his fascinated search throughout the car. _His_ car.

"So, what do you think?" He asked after giving him time to explore a bit. Antonio's head jolted up, an astounded look on his face.

"You got me a car?" He sounded as if he _still_ couldn't believe it. His dad laughed.

"Yes, Toni. I got you a car."

Antonio looked back out the windshield in front of him, then down at the wheel. Then a thought occurred to him. He snapped his head back up to where his father's gaze was already waiting. "But I don't have a license."

His dad shrugged. "You have a permit."

"But… do I just drive it in California?" Antonio asked, wondering if this was the right time to ask. His dad had just gotten him a car, for Christ's sake!

"For now," his dad replied, "Yes. I mean, you can't really drive it across country."

Antonio nodded. He was looking over the dashboard again. He turned on the radio and heard an old song come on. That's right; he'd almost forgotten. There was a good classic rock station with a pretty strong signal around here. He hadn't known it was still airing.

"I thought you went to work this morning." Antonio said.

"I wanted to make it a surprise." Was the response. Antonio's heart lifted. His dad hadn't left him on one of the only days in the year he ever saw him.

"Wanna take her for a spin?"

Antonio's eyes widened, a hope purer than straight sugar cane filling them. Could he take her for a test ride? Did his dad have the keys on him? Antonio didn't even mind how hot the inside of the car had gotten, even with both of their doors still ajar on either side. He wanted to start her - to hear the engine rumble softly and be the one to drive her along the beach fronts and along the streets of urban and suburban California alike.

"Go put on some clothes." His father ordered. When Antonio started to protest he stuck out a finger. "Nope. You need shoes to drive and, really, it's way too hot to be out with pajamas."

Antonio sighed but nodded all the same. He was swinging himself out of the car, launching himself to the front door again so he could be back as soon as possible. Behind him he could hear his father yelling, "Don't forget your permit!"

-/-

"This simply cannot be real." Francis said from beside Antonio. He was looking at his driveway, or, to be more specific, the car parked there.

"It is. Isn't she beautiful?" Antonio asked, pride puffing out his chest. Francis grimaced slightly and Antonio couldn't help the twinge of disappointment that slivered into his heart.

"I would not say that, but, really, it is phenomenal. You do not even have your license yet. You've only had your permit for two months."

"That's what I said!" Antonio replied. "But he said since I've been driving a while even before that then it'd be alright if I took her out on my own sometimes. Mostly it's so he can teach me to drive though. Apparently that's one of those things parents like to do with their kids even though I'm pretty sure my mom looks like she wants to pass out everytime I drive."

Francis shook his head. "Unbelievable."

"No kidding." Antonio laughed.

"And I thought _my_ news would be the topic of the day."

Antonio turned to him, a question in his eyes. Naturally, he asked, "What news?"

"I have found the address where Gilbert is staying." Francis waved a small slip of paper he had extracted from his pocket.

"What? How did you do that? Did Gilbert tell you?"

Francis shook his head. "If I had asked him, how would it have been a surprise when we went to see him?"

"Wait." Antonio said. "Really? You want to _go_ there?"

Francis nodded now. "Oui. We planned this summer for him to be with us and it simply is not fair without him here. If he cannot be here then we must go there."

"How far away is it?"

"A couple of hours. I planned to take a bus, but with this new development…" Francis glanced back over at Antonio's car. Suddenly Antonio felt uneasy.

"Um, won't someone notice if we're gone?" He asked. He wasn't accustomed to Francis being the reckless one of them three. That was usually Gilbert.

"See, I have it all planned already, mon ami. There is no need to worry."

Antonio worried, but it also wasn't in his nature to hold onto it. So, in short time, Antonio was really looking forward to it. They could hang with Gilbert like they'd planned to. He could see Lovino too and have all of his best friends in the same place for once. He could see what exactly it was that was going on between Ludwig and Feliciano. He could meet their grandfathers and see their store.

For the rest of the day Francis filled Antonio in on his plans. The next day, they would be driving out.

* * *

 _ **CV: Hey, guys! It's been almost a month. Sorry for the wait; time flew and I was writing something else and blah blah blah. Since I left you hanging for so long I'm hopefully planning on getting the next chapter out sooner than usual. But, be warned, my pre-written material is dwindling... so wish me luck on that. I know where it's going for another few chapters though, so it's just a matter of me Actually Writing For Once.**_

 _ **Thank you all for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing! See you in the next one!**_


	9. Chapter 9

" _What are you doing?"_

 _The boy startled and looked up at Antonio with wide eyes, like some cookie thief caught red-handed. Antonio was standing on the top step to the front door of the Vargas house. He had been planning to knock and ask if Lovino was home, but it seemed he hadn't needed to because the boy was already there in front of him._

 _Lovino scrambled up from where he had been sprawled, looking embarrassed all the while. His face was slowly coloring into a dark shade of red, one that, though Antonio did not know it then, the boy would never get a handle on. "Nothing." Was his response._

 _Antonio at that age did not understand that 'nothing' usually meant 'I don't want to talk about it'. Because he did not know this, Antonio persisted._

" _But you were laying in the middle of the floor. In front of the door." Antonio inquired then giggled. "Wow, that rhymed."_

 _Lovino huffed and, if Antonio had known him better at this age, he would have been surprised when he decided to answer truthfully._

" _I'm not allowed outside today, so this is how I feel the sun."_

 _The boy seemed to intrigue Antonio more and more as he got to know him. "Feel the sun? So you lay in front of the glass door like a cat?"_

 _Lovino rolled his eyes at that. "You sound just like Feli."_

 _Antonio didn't know what to say to that. He figured it was a compliment from what he knew of the brother and from the fondly exasperated tone Lovino said it in. It was the kind of voice Antonio usually associated with adults, that quiet love. He hadn't expected to hear it from the boy._

" _So I guess you can't play?" Antonio asked instead. He was a little disappointed, but he understood. Parents could be strict sometimes. Once his mom had taken his TV time for a week!_

 _Lovino frowned. It was a well-trained expression. He shook his head. "Why would you want to play?"_

 _Antonio's features puzzled. "What do you mean? I love to play! Don't you?"_

" _I guess." Lovino shrugged. "I play with Feli or in my room with my cars. But why do you want me to play?"_

 _Antonio paused. He watched Lovino for a second and decided, yes, the boy was being completely serious. This only proved to confuse Antonio more._

" _So we can have fun." Antonio answered as if this was obvious. Which it was. He just couldn't figure out how Lovino didn't see it that way too._

" _You don't have fun when you play by yourself?" Lovino asked._

 _Antonio shrugged. "I have a lot more fun when I can play with friends!"_

 _Lovino paused for a beat. Antonio briefly wondered what could be going through the boy's mind._

" _I think Feli is in the backyard."_

" _You don't want to play?" Antonio asked, heart sinking._

" _I can't."_

" _Why?"_

" _I'm not allowed outside." The boy was getting frustrated now._

" _That's alright!" Antonio answered, smiling broadly. "You don't have to come out!"_

 _Lovino's brows furrowed. "How are we supposed to play then?"_

" _Easy!" Antonio replied and sat down, criss-cross-applesauce. "We stay right here!"_

" _What?"_

" _We can play 'I Spy' or make up stories or play hangman. We'll need a piece of paper for that one, but I think it'll work!" Antonio exclaimed loudly. Lovino gave him a skeptical look from where he still stood._

 _Antonio smiled up at him._

" _Why are you doing this?"_

" _Huh?"_

" _Why do you want to play with me? Feli is in the backyard. Why not play with him instead?" Lovino asked._

 _Antonio took a moment to answer. Lovino was right after all. Normal children wouldn't try to interact with kids who were essentially grounded when they could find a dozen others they could run around with. So why did he want to be here with Lovino so much? What made this boy so special?_

" _Because I like you." Antonio answered honestly and shrugged his shoulders like it was obvious. Going by Lovino's reaction though, it was anything but obvious to the boy._

 _Lovino stared at him with wide amber eyes for a few beats, absorbing these words. He blinked and opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but closed it right after. Antonio was beginning to think he had said something wrong when Lovino shook his head and plopped down on his side of the screen door._

" _'I Spy' you said?" Lovino asked and Antonio grinned. He let Lovino have the first turn, in which the boy spied something red and it took Antonio forever to figure out it was the flag on the mailbox._

 _He didn't miss the small smile the boy wore the whole game through._

So that's what his smile looks like. _He remembered thinking to himself._ I want to see that more _._

-/-

"I am not going in there." Francis panned as they both looked out the front window of Antonio's car. He had parked them in a space at the front of a gas station only for Francis to immediately protest.

"Why not?" Antonio asked, twisting his body to reach for his bag in the back seat. They hadn't had to pack much since they would only be gone for a day, so Antonio had thrown all of his things into his old backpack that he had thankfully brought from New York. He pulled it to the front and began digging around in it, extracting his wallet from its depths.

"Do you not see the place you have parked in front of or shall I describe it for your obviously blind eyes?" Francis looked at him, still buckled in and apparently with no intention of moving.

"It's a gas station, Francis." Antonio nearly laughed. What was the big deal? "It's tradition to get snacks from a gas station for road trips!"

"Non. Picnics at rest stops are tradition. Rest stops are the dirtiest place I was prepared to go to during this trip."

"But where are you supposed to get your candy and soda?" Antonio asked, pausing midway through zipping back up his bag to stare at his friend.

"You do not. That is what our packed snacks are for." Francis replied haughtily and unbuckled his seat. After swinging open his door he asked, "Cheese and crackers or celery sticks?"

"You brought celery sticks?" Antonio asked, now no longer holding back his laughter. Francis looked offended.

"Fine. I was going to share but I see now that a gas station is much more suited to your tastes." He got out of the car and made his way to the trunk where the cooler was. Antonio shook his head and threw his bag behind his seat, getting out and going into the store.

They reconvened when Francis had retrieved a roll of Ritz crackers and a block of cheese and Antonio had bought his own assortment of candies and sodas. Francis had scrunched his nose at the sight of the colorful boxes and bags until Antonio had placed a black bag of cheddar popcorn beside his friend. It was the boy's only junk food weakness. Only Antonio and Gilbert knew of it.

Sticking his nose up, trying for indifference, Francis replied, "You are forgiven."

Antonio giggled and busted open one of his own treats, placing it between the cupholders and buckling in. He pulled the car out of the parking lot and continued along the way his phone navigation relayed to him in its neutral tone.

It was a nice day. Warm and sunny and, with the windows down, sufficiently windy enough to provide a fair breeze. The roads they were taking were practically desolate, the countryside they flew past all a green hilly blur. They had been on the road for approximately two hours, which left three to go. They had taken off early that morning, at about seven, so, with luck, they would arrive at noon.

For most of the drive the two had been too tired to do much, opting to listen to a lame radio talk show that did cringe worthy stuff like prank calls and celebrity talk. Now they were awake enough to grow sick of the constant babble and Antonio had changed it to a pop station. After they'd had their snacks, the two started to talk. The conversation came natural like it should between the good friends.

And, of course, during the course of the conversation, it turned to their destination.

"We only have a few hours so we have to do as much as we can." Antonio said.

"Yes. We will find Gilbert and you can find Lovino too and we will demand they take the day from work. I am sure Lovino's brother and Ludwig would be quite fine with taking the shift. They seem to get along nicely." There was a twinkle in Francis' eye as he said this and Antonio chuckled.

"Feliciano is normally friendly, but I do agree. He really likes Ludwig."

Francis hummed his agreement and glanced at Antonio. Antonio waited, figuring he had something to say, but nothing came. He looked over and saw Francis give him a skeptical look before shifting his gaze back to the skyline.

Antonio, being the driver, had to give his attention back to the road, but that didn't stop his eyes from peeking at his friend every few seconds. There was something Francis was going to say, he could feel it.

"Antonio." Ha! He knew it!

Antonio looked over. "Yep?"

"Have you spoken to Emma recently?"

Antonio's heart sunk. Oh.

"Well…" he responded, fixing his vision back to the road, "Not really. A little, I guess." Usually Emma would send him short updates or cute messages at random times. Last night there had been one that showed a cake she had baked that day and a short message teasing how he couldn't have any since he was so far away. He hadn't responded. He wasn't sure why. "Why do you ask?"

"You know why." Francis replied. Of course he knew why, but it didn't hurt to stall. "Have you thought more about what you said to me?"

Antonio chewed on his lip and kept his eyes on the road in front of him. "No…"

He could see Francis nod from the corner of his eye. He was thinking again. Antonio didn't let his hopes up that the conversation might have been dropped.

"May I ask you something, Antonio?"

No. Nope. No; thank you for asking though. "Sure." Damn it.

"Are you sure this is about Emma?"

Antonio's breath caught and his grip tightened on the steering wheel. _Of course it's about Emma._ He wanted to say. He couldn't speak. He couldn't voice that lie.

Francis did not either. Finally, when Antonio found his voice, it seemed like too much silence had passed for anything he said to be considered seriously.

"What… else would it be about?" He practically squeaked.

Francis sighed. "Antonio, I do not wish to spell it out for you. I think you already know what this is really about. I can tell he's all you've been thinking about."

It was a good thing these roads were so desolate because, if they had been busier, someone would have rear-ended the car from the sudden application to the breaks.

"He?" Antonio asked, voice an octave too high.

"Lovino, Antonio." Francis said, unphased by their sudden stop. "I mean Lovino."

Antonio shook his head, eyes squeezed shut as if he could block out the words. Block out the truth. "It isn't like that between us, Francis. You know that. He's my best friend."

"Being friends does not stop certain feelings from cropping up…" Francis suggested, sympathetically. He seemed to sense the difficulty his thick-headed friend was having.

Antonio shook his head more, opening his eyes to look determinedly at his friend in the passenger seat. "That's like saying I could like _you_ like that! Or Gilbert!"

Francis was using his most patient voice. "Antonio, close your eyes for me."

"Wha-" Antonio started to protest only to be interrupted.

"Please. Just this one thing then I will leave you alone about all of this." It could have been a plea, but by his tone of voice, Antonio knew there was no choice in the matter.

He shut his eyes.

"I can't tell you what I think I see between you two because, you're right in what you said the other day: Every relationship is unique. Is special." Francis started, voice slow and patient, and Antonio sat calmly, hearing and not seeing. "Maybe you really do not see Lovino in a romantic light and it's simply the way you two act around each other. You know me, Antonio. I love romantics and poetry and love. But you have to know as well that I love friendship and family and platonic love as well. Love is such a powerful force and so many mistake that as needing to find a lover. Which is not true. There are so many types of love and so many ways to love that it is just impossible to say that is the only one that matters."

"I am not trying to persuade you in anyway that it is useless to have Lovino as your best friend because that would make a mockery of that beautiful bond that friends have. It would make the relationship between you and me and Gilbert sound cheap and pathetic. I cherish the fact that we share thoughts and feelings and experiences like now. And our trust and strength we find in one another is something irreplaceable. What you have with Lovino is the same in so many different ways and a relationship like that is special. It's real. True."

Antonio was speechless. He had heard Francis speak his mind many a time, but never had it sounded so… heartfelt. Antonio had always assumed his talk of romantics and dramatics had come from the heart, but now he could see he'd been wrong.

This was Francis from late night Skype calls while the three were trying to get to sleep with no success and instead just spoke to each other, minds in distant places. This was Francis when he'd found a poem that had spoken to him and he'd decided to share it with them. This was Francis speaking about Joan or wistfully of childhood innocence long gone. Of old memories and hopes of the future.

"But," Francis spoke again and Antonio's focus was immediately on him, "I see something between you two that you still keep hidden. And I'm afraid that if you keep it from each other for much longer it might quietly drive you apart."

"For years I was skeptical about Lovino, I will admit. He is moody and bad-tempered and anytime you spoke of him he seemed to be insulting you. He still insults you constantly." Francis chuckled. "But I suppose that's just how you two work. You've always been a bit of a masochist."

Antonio scrunched up his face, eyes still closed. "Hey!"

"Of course, I kid with you, Toni. But I am serious about the rest." Francis said, sobering up again. "Aren't you hiding something from him?"

Antonio didn't reply, but he did open his eyes to look at his friend. Francis already knew the answer, that much Antonio could tell. Antonio contemplated his words, still looking into his friend's eyes, then averted his gaze.

Yeah. He was keeping something from Lovino.

He was keeping from him the feelings he had of always wanting to be by his side and missing him so much more than he ever had when they were apart. He was keeping the thoughts of wanting to kiss him just to see if it was the same as Emma. If it was better. If it was more. He kept the hope that, deep down, with Lovino he wanted it to be so much more.

Antonio didn't tell Lovino how he had been the one to cause him to smile in class because of the silly little charm that dangled from Antonio's phone or that he was constantly having crises over the other boy for the silliest reasons. For reasons Antonio would have never thought twice about had it been maybe a year ago.

Most of all, Antonio kept a burning desire within him that constantly ached to make Lovino smile and get every trace of anxiety to flee from his face. To see that wide smile, breaking the serious palette of the boy's features. A happiness from the abandon of worries. That small content smile he'd had when a boy went out of his way to stay with Lovino when he wasn't allowed to leave his house.

 _I want to see that more._

Antonio had almost forgotten that memory, yet there it was, clear as if it had been days before instead of years. Antonio looked over, surprise etching his face, and saw Francis smiling softly at him. He nodded and turned away.

Antonio sat still, hands having slid from the steering wheel to his lap and the street a long stretch into the horizon before them. He wasn't sure how long he sat for. He argued silently with himself for some time and, once he decided enough was enough and pressed down on the accelerator again, found that even as he drove he could not leave those thoughts behind him.

Francis stayed silent for nearly the whole rest of the ride and Antonio mulled the same thought for just the same amount of time. When the GPS exclaimed "You have reached your destination" in a small town in central Oregon, Antonio wasn't sure if he was ready or not.

He guessed he would just have to be.

-/-

"I like Lovino Vargas."

Antonio wasn't sure what prompted him to say those words, especially as the two were parked right outside the beatdown house of the Beilschmidt grandfather with its torn screen door and rusty bike leaning against the inside of the chain link fence that surrounded the property. Antonio and Francis were seconds away from surprising their friend with their arrival and somehow Antonio had decided it the opportune moment to voice his little epiphany.

Except, it didn't really feel like an epiphany.

He'd felt close to Lovino for a long time. He'd loved him in some shape or form for years. While he couldn't tell you if he necessarily _loved_ the other boy in that way yet, he was certain now that he at least _liked_ him like that.

But it had been growing into this for some time. It was a development that, when Antonio stepped back and looked at it, seemed kind of inevitable. Not that there were any keys events that signaled its occurrence, but subtle things. He wanted to be with Lovino all the time. His heart missed him when he was gone.

He liked Lovino not only at his happiest when he smiled and laughed and forgot about his troubles so he could spend time with Antonio. When he did that _just_ for Antonio. He also cared when Lovino was at his worst. When the world seemed to weigh on his shoulders. When his father never noticed how hard he worked for the man.

He wanted to do better for Lovino and he wanted to help Lovino do better for himself.

These feelings were so strong. He cared for him like a friend, but there was also something else. Something Antonio couldn't describe. A compulsion, a need, to hold his hand and push his hair out of his eyes. Not to mention his extreme interest in what it would be like to kiss the boy.

"I like Lovino Vargas." He repeated. Francis looked his way with a proud smile.

"And I thought you'd never figure it out." His friend teased. "Now, should we go make our entrance?"

-/-

No one was home.

"Where to now?" Antonio asked and Francis rubbed at his chin in thought.

"Perhaps they are all at their grandfathers' store?" He suggested.

"But…" Antonio wondered, "Do we even know where that is?"

Francis shook his head. "No, my dear Antonio. We do not."

Antonio shrugged. "Well, only one way to find out!"

Then Francis whipped out his phone. "Yes, hopefully Google Maps will have it somewhere in its logs." He pressed a button and a dinging noise emitted from the device. "Show stores in my area."

Antonio shifted and blushed. He had actually been thinking of driving around until they found it, but this idea worked too.

Before long, Francis had a few selections for them to investigate and they jumped back into Antonio's car.

There weren't _too many_ stores in the small town, but there were enough where the two had to drive across at least three times. The distance wasn't all that much, so Antonio didn't worry about wasted gas.

The fifth store they entered seemed to hit the jackpot.

A bell sounded their entrance throughout the space and Francis and Antonio walked away from the plain welcome mat to stand in the center of the store. It was a very small place with second-hand clothing hung about on an overflow of racks. The store was a strange mixture of a chaotic mess and an organized catalog of colors and types of clothing.

And, at the register, there was a familiar face. His stony features watched them with a slight surprise but mostly with inquiry. He had slicked back blonde hair and wore a burgundy apron across a neatly pressed button down shirt, as if he had been planning on attending a board meeting instead of a summer job at a Thrift shop. Antonio smiled. He hadn't seen Ludwig since Christmas.

"Hello." Ludwig greeted somewhat robotically.

"Hello, Ludwig!" Antonio said. "Long time no see."

Ludwig nodded. "Why… are you here?"

"To see Gilbert, of course." Francis responded.

"The drive here is over five hours long." He pointed out.

Antonio shrugged.

"So, if you would point us in the right direction to find our friend…" Francis inquired.

Ludwig pointed out the door, resigned to his brother's and said brother's friends' strange antics. "Gilbert and Lovino went to get our lunches. There's a grocery store up the street if you take a right out of the store that they should have gone to."

Antonio's heart quite nearly soared. Lovino was there too. He got to see Lovino after weeks without his best friend. He had so much to tell him, like about his new car and the beach and their road trip. It felt like a life time had passed since he'd last seen him.

His heart was at tremendous heights when it quite suddenly dropped.

 _I like Lovino Vargas._

But he couldn't tell him that. Lovino couldn't know. Why not? He wasn't sure…

Why couldn't he tell Lovino? How could he just pretend nothing was different between the two now that he _knew_? He had never been good at hiding his emotions. Especially the positive ones, which he certainly considered this to be. And he especially couldn't hide them from Lovino.

They were a few paces from the grocery store's entrance when someone came bursting out in a blur of dark brown and olive green. Antonio didn't know Lovino owned a shirt like that. The color suited him quite nicely.

 _I'm going to tell him._

The idea appeared from nothing, but seized Antonio with a vengeance. He had to. It hadn't been fifteen minutes since he'd realized himself, but he felt compelled to tell Lovino. Like he said, he wasn't one for hiding things like this. If he did, he knew it would slowly eat him alive.

It may take Antonio a while to realize things, but when he was made aware by whatever unknown forces (cough, Francis), he was always quick to act on them. He lived in the present. It was a quirk of his.

He turned to his friend beside him. "I'm going to catch up with Lovi. You find Gilbert!"

Francis' eyebrows were drawn into a line of worry for some reason. "Uh, Toni, maybe we should-"

"I gotta go, Francis!" Antonio exclaimed while backing away, a giddy smile on his face. "I promise I'll tell you everything later."

"Antonio…"

But Antonio had already turned his back to him, hurrying along the sidewalk. Whatever concerns there were that laced his friend's voice were lost on Antonio and he had only one goal in mind as he closed the gap between him and the other boy who was walking briskly along the sidewalk.

He had to tell him…

-/-

Lovino must have heard Antonio as he approached because he turned just as Antonio had reached a distance of a few feet from the boy. His eyes widened in surprise at seeing him and Antonio had his own surprise at how much he had missed seeing those eyes. He'd never thought of missing something like that, but now he was so relieved they were back in his life.

As sappy as that was…

Usually Antonio was never caught up at his own sappiness, but at the moment he found himself blushing. He shook himself out of his thoughts and flashed his friend an excited grin.

"Guess who?"

Lovino immediately shifted from shocked to exasperated, rolling his eyes and placing his hands on his hips. "I'm not blind, idiota. I can see who you are."

Antonio pouted. "I wanted to sneak up and cover your eyes like they do on TV."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Lovino asked. It wasn't in a way that sounded as if he didn't want Antonio there. More like he was still trying to make sense of it all in his mind.

"It was only a few hours away, so Franny and I took a road trip." Antonio responded, walking the rest of the distance to Lovino.

"But wh-" Lovino was still grasping for understanding, "How?"

Antonio shrugged. "We drove?" It sounded like a suggestion instead of a statement. Then he remembered. "Oh! My dad got me a car!"

Lovino's eyebrows shot up. "A what?"

"Yeah!" Antonio was excited now. He wanted to tell Lovino all about it. He would have texted him a picture, but Francis had been the first he'd shown since his house was nearby and Francis had convinced him not to tell so they weren't in danger of ruining the surprise.

"But, wait, you only have your permit." Lovino predictably pointed out.

"Everyone's first response." Antonio said, shaking his head good-naturedly.

"And did your dad accompany you on this trip or have you been driving illegally all this way?" Lovino asked, sticking his hand on his hip. Antonio sweated.

"Um, well…"

Lovino's jaw fell open. "Seriously?" Antonio shrugged and Lovino threw his head. "What an idiot."

"So, where are you going?" Antonio asked, shifting the subject.

"Back to Nonno's." Lovino answered, twiddling with something in one hand. "You want to come?"

Antonio nodded, but his gaze was drawn to what the other boy held, twirling and spinning it absently. Antonio blinked blankly at it.

When Lovino turned, probably assuming Antonio would follow, Antonio's confused and quiet voice came unbidden from his mouth. "What's that?"

Lovino paused and looked back. He followed down to where Antonio's eyes were trained and blushed upon realizing what it was he must have been asking. He lifted the rose to get a better view.

In the light, Antonio saw from its deep red coloring that it was fresh, as if it had just been cut that morning. The stem was thornless and the petals regal as it stood with poise. Lovino admired the flower for a moment before looking back to Antonio.

"Oh." Antonio could hear it in Lovino's voice that he was trying to be nonchalant about it, "This? It's a rose, dumbass."

Antonio rolled his eyes at the response. Lovino wasn't the only one with the ability. All the while though, his heart was sinking. He knew what the rose must have been, but that didn't stop him from asking. That didn't stop him from needing to know. "You know what I mean." Antonio said, hoping his voice sounded light. "Where did you get it?"

"Oh," Lovino said again, ducking his head as if he was purposefully avoiding eye contact with Antonio. He twirled the flower once more, down by his side, "Gilbert gave it to me."

The sinking of Antonio's heart accelerated and, before he knew it, it had hit rock bottom in two seconds flat. He was shocked at hearing one of his best friends' names come from Lovino's mouth. Sure, Antonio didn't necessarily know many people in this town, but, even considering this, he'd never expected Gilbert. Had he really heard right?

Antonio stammered out a reply, forgetting to stop to consider his words before he said, "W-why'd he do that?"

Offense immediately rumbled in Lovino's chromatic eyes. Anger. Hurt. Maybe a little sadness too. It all came too quickly for Antonio to be certain.

"Um, I don't know. Maybe because he asked me out?" Lovino crossed his arms over his chest and let out a huff. The rose was safely nestled against his chest where it wasn't in danger of being crushed by the overlapping limbs. Antonio could have sworn the rose was giving him the stink-eye.

"Oh," Antonio laughed, not sure what else to do, "Yeah. Silly me."

Lovino continued to glare at him, seemingly considering if he should remain mad at the other. Antonio pleaded in his head that Lovino would let it go and, by some miracle, he did. He uncrossed his arms and relaxed his shoulders, turning to continue on his way. Antonio jogged up to walk beside him.

Antonio's thoughts were running wild. He hadn't known Gilbert liked Lovino! They may live across the country from one another, but Antonio had always felt like his friendship with Francis and Gilbert was no less strong than when they had lived a couple streets away. Maybe even stronger now that they were older and had faced all the struggles of long-distance friendship. So how could Gilbert not tell him something like this? Was this a more recent development in Gilbert's feelings? Had he come to like Lovino since they'd been working together in that thrift store or had it somehow been longer than that?

Antonio knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself…

"What did you say?" He asked nervously. He hoped Lovino couldn't hear that.

Lovino looked back up and Antonio imagined the moment in his mind. Gilbert giving Lovino the rose and scratching his head, asking the stubborn Italian out on a date and probably using the word 'awesome' a couple of times out of nervousness. Lovino probably looked at the rose and bursted out laughing, calling the other a 'German bastard' and asking if it was a joke.

Antonio felt bad for Gilbert already and decided to forgive his friend for not telling him. Maybe he would bring him a big bag of he liked so much when he saw him later. He knew Lovino acted like this because he was genuinely confused that someone would like him like that - he had probably thought Gilbert was joking and trying to make a fool of him - but it didn't make the circumstances any less harsh.

He then realized he was still waiting for Lovino's answer and he looked to his friend to find him silently staring at him. _Wait_.

Lovino bit his lip and looked away. _No_.

"You said _yes_?" Antonio asked incredulously. At the continued silence, Antonio knew he had his answer. He paused in his tracks, processing the information. Lovino stopped too, but continued to avoid his eyes.

Lovino had said yes. To a date. With Gilbert. The guy Lovino had always complained about after their video calls. Who he could argue with for hours over inane things like how disgusting Lovino found German food or how Gilbert could find twenty different insults in regards to Lovino's height in a simple conversation. This was the same guy that, the last time he had visited New York, Lovino had _punched him_ for pulling his hair.

 _That_ Gilbert.

When Lovino met his eyes he flushed and hurried to pick up his pace again. He looked much too embarrassed to continue this conversation. "So," Lovino said, "To my Nonno's house then."

All the way there they were silent and Antonio couldn't help but looking down at the rose, held delicately in Lovino's hand. He seemed to handle it with patience and care, something Antonio rarely saw from the other. He didn't miss how Lovino's gaze seemed magnetized to it too. Lovino looked… kind of happy and Antonio could see traces of a smile on his lips.

Even now, Antonio couldn't help always wanting to see Lovino smile.

* * *

 ** _CV: Here it is! This author has a habit of writing absolute cheese. A part of this was actually too cheesy so I replaced it, but, worry not, it was still replaced with extra cheese._**

 ** _So... Antonio has finally realized his feelings. But at what cost?! Mwahahaha. Oh, poor boy._**

 ** _Thanks guys!_**


	10. Chapter 10

**Lovi** : So how long are you grounded for?

 **Antonio** : a week :(

 **Lovi** : Not too bad. I would have been grounded for at least a month for pulling that shit.

 **Antonio** : yeah my dads soft on me since i dont see him a lot. i feel bad tho

 **Lovi** : Why? It's not like you lied to him when you got caught.

 **Antonio** : well i still lied to him before that… but mostly its because we dont have a lot of time together and i blew a week of it on being grounded

 **Lovi** : I thought you spent most of your time there at the French bastard's place anyway

 **Antonio** : yeah… i guess

To tell the truth, Antonio never spent much time with his father when he was in California. The Bonnefoys always let him stay over and, though he did visit with his dad while he was there and kept him in the loop, he rarely saw him. It was obvious he loved his dad and that he knew his dad loved him - all those things that just happened in families (well, he supposed not _always_...) - but he never really gave much thought into spending time with the man.

Lately though, blame it on maturation or the increasing thoughts he'd been having as to the differences of his own family and Lovino's, Antonio had been wanting to learn more about his father. He knew he worked a lot and loved his CDs and watched baseball games, but that couldn't be all there was to know. And it was just dawning on Antonio that he _didn't_ know.

Antonio felt like a lot had happened since he'd found Lovino in that small Oregon town. In reality, Antonio and Francis had spent the night at Gilbert's grandfather's house on their couches after an evening of ramen, potato chips, and videogames before they left in the morning.

That night, Gilbert had, as always, been the best at the video games while both Francis and Antonio sucked. Francis had given up not long into their rounds of passing the controller around, but Antonio had persisted. No amount of losses dissuaded him.

That was until Lovino arrived to play as well.

Surprisingly, Lovino had been quite good at the game. And, while Antonio had never been embarrassed about things like this - being lame at a videogames had never been something that had bothered Antonio _before_ \- he found himself watching Lovino's reactions to his losses a lot more. Not that there was usually anything to see when Lovino was distracted by his phone or Gilbert goofing off when it wasn't his turn. Still, Antonio didn't like losing so much for once, especially next to Gilbert who won almost every game.

Lovino and Gilbert acted pretty awkward around one another that evening. At times they would throw challenging remarks or rude comments at each other just as they always did and never - not once - was anything said along the lines of actually liking the other in any way. The tension was still palpable in the air though. They avoided eye contact and jumped when their shoulders touched. They blushed and shot shy glances. It was kind of ridiculous, but more often than not Antonio simply found himself jealous of it. He wanted that. More specifically, he wanted that with Lovino.

Seeing Gilbert after Antonio's encounter with Lovino had been... surprising.

As soon as he'd walked into that old thrift shop, his two friends' grandfathers owned, Gilbert had jumped at him, grabbing his shoulders and babbling out frantic explanations to which Antonio had no clue what for until Gilbert had calmed down a bit and given him time to process.

" _That wasn't cool of me at all. You know? Bros before hoes. He's your best friend and I just went right over your head and asked him out!" Gilbert had exclaimed, looking so guilty and alarmed and worried._

" _You're one of my best friends too, Gilbert," Antonio had shaken his head in an attempt to placate his friend, "Besides, you don't need to ask my permission. It's up to you guys."_

 _Gilbert had scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish and, still, very worried. "But a heads up or something would have been the thing to do."_

 _Antonio was shaking his head again, ready to reassure him once more when Gilbert said the words that tied his tongue into a million knots._

" _I mean, you don't like him, right…?"_

 _The question took him off guard and he faltered. Antonio probably waited too long to respond, given the increasing arrow forming at Gilbert's brow, but he'd had to remember how to speak again._

" _No," he responded, then got his shit together pretty quick. He laughed, hurting inside. "No, I've told you and Francis time and time again that it isn't like that between Lovino and me. I'm with Emma."_

 _Antonio saw Francis frowning at him behind Gilbert, but he chose to ignore it._

 _Gilbert broke into a grin, bouncing back to his normal self-satisfied demeanour. "Yeah! See, that's what I thought! You're practically head over heels for the girl."_

 _Antonio's heart sunk then, shock stilling him down to his bones. Those words hit him straight in the face. He was still dating Emma. But he didn't like her like that anymore, right?_

 _Did he…?_

 _It was all so confusing now._

Since then, Antonio's thoughts rarely strayed far from the world he thought he knew taking a different form around him. It was as if the leaves were turning from green to purple. The roads were pink. The oceans, yellow.

He thought of Emma. He thought of Lovino. He thought of Gilbert. He thought of how he was basically betraying them all with his wondering emotions.

Antonio didn't blame Gilbert. Or Francis. Francis had tried to warn him when he'd seen Lovino carrying that rose, but Antonio had been too focused to heed his friend's advice.

As for Gilbert… yeah, he agreed with what he'd said. He did wish Gilbert would have told him, but that was in the past now. It could have just as well gone the other way too. Antonio had never told Gilbert his feelings toward Lovino either. He hadn't even figured out his feelings until a few minutes prior to that, but still. There was nothing he would have been able to do. If Gilbert had told him, even after Antonio had finally figured his own feelings out, Antonio still would have never gotten in his way.

They lived across country from each other; they barely even Skyped these days, yet, Gilbert would always be one of his closest friends. He _knew_ Gilbert. He knew how he was a bit self-absorbed at times, but that was only to cover the insecurities he wanted to hide underneath. He was the funniest guy Antonio knew, even if a lot of his jokes were either horrible or raunchy. He was never bored when he hung out with Gilbert, even if they were just playing video games on the couch or basketball in the Beilschmidt's driveway.

They'd gone trick-or-treating together when they were five and, by nine, Gilbert had taught him the art of trick- _and_ -treating where they would scare the younger kids or attack random bushes with TP. These days Antonio considered those tricks cheap and disrespectful, but it didn't stop him from looking back in fondness at the times he'd spent with his friends.

Antonio remembered the time Gilbert had asked him for advice about the Austrian kid he had a crush on in the seventh grade, too proud to ask Francis "Expert on Love Even at Thirteen" Bonnefoy. He remembered how Gilbert had rescued a bird fallen from its nest when they were eight and, when Gilbert's parents had said he couldn't keep it, Antonio and Francis had swapped the bird back and forth between their homes until Gilbert had finally convinced his parents that he was responsible enough to keep him.

He remembered how Gilbert had vacuumed his house every weekend for a month to convince them.

Most of all, Antonio remembered once, years ago, when the three of them had nearly knocked some kid in the face for bullying Ludwig when the boy was still short and puny, before his, rather impressive, growth spurt. Antonio had seen Gilbert cry for some ridiculous things before, but on that day he had seen a new side to his friend. Gilbert had cried his heart out that evening while hugging Antonio and Francis, thanking them over and over for standing up for Ludwig.

There was nothing that could change their friendship. Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis were closer than a lot of people, even from so many miles away. The distance was only testament to their strength, Antonio felt, because they had endured and even grown, like the thick leaves of trees in a rainforest. They stood under them, protected by the foliage that barely let any drops through. They were protected by the leaves they had created because they were stronger together.

Since Oregon, though, Antonio felt different. He felt raindrops on his nose and hair. Everything seemed off and, when he looked up, he noticed he had stepped out from under those leaves. Or maybe they had just shifted without him noticing. Either way, he had to find his way back, find the leaves again.

When he breathed and remembered himself, it was easier. He would smile at his friends, step back under the tree. He felt further away from them though. The rain didn't drop on him, but, when he wasn't paying attention, he found himself drenched again.

He was happy for Lovino and Gilbert. He might have liked Lovino now, but he couldn't change the fact that they were together in some way. And he was with Emma.

But that was a whole other headache.

Antonio groaned and slumped back against his pillow, holding his phone against his chest. It buzzed and Antonio jumped, expecting to find Lovino had texted again. Instead, the icon 'hElpmE' greeted him. He was puzzled until he opened it, finding that his group chat with Francis and Gilbert had been renamed.

 **KillGil has renamed the chat to 'hElpmE'**

 **KillGil** : HELP I HAVE A DATE TONIGHT

 **Pain in the France** : You are finally taking out the angry Italian, I see.

 **KillGil** : you kNOW WHAT

 **KillGil** : yes

 **Pain in the France** : You have come to the right place.

 **Y'all = Nosotros** : aw! wher are you guys going?

 **KillGil** : ok so awhile ago we were talking and i said sausage pizzas da bomb but he got really angry so ima take the fucker to experience the wonders of sasuage pizza at a pizzza joint in town

 **KillGil** : bam bitch

 **Pain in the France** : That is… oddly romantic of you, Gilbert.

 **KillGil** : what?!

 **Pain in the France** : My, my, and I thought my finer qualities would never rub off.

 **KillGil** : ROmantic?! its pizza!

 **Pain in the France** : It was something you remembered from your time together. Granted, it was an argument, but it seems to have, dare I say, /meant/ something to you.

 **KillGil** : i dont need your SARCASM franceypants

 **Pain in the France** : It needed to be sad.

 **Y'all = Nosotros** : sad xD

 **KillGil** : SAD

 **Pain in the France** : Oh dear…

 **Pain in the France** : So, did you want our help or not, Gil?

 **KillGil** : OHY EAH

 **KillGil** : so heres what im thinking on wearing

Antonio was laughing at his phone. Even a conversation about a date he would much rather not think about was hilarious to him when between his friends. This was normal for their group chat, yet Antonio couldn't help smirking down at his phone. He'd needed this pick me up.

He wondered if Lovino was getting ready too. He definitely wouldn't need help picking out what to wear, unless his brother insisted on it, so there wasn't really a need for him to contact Antonio (especially given that Antonio's own fashion sense was thrown together with styles and colors mixed in a way that always made Lovino's nose scrunch adorably in disgust). Antonio still wanted some sort of excuse to talk to him though.

He stared down at the text conversation. He'd been the last to say anything and Lovino hadn't responded. What if he was busy?

 **Antonio** : you getting ready for your date?

Immediately after hitting send, Antonio chucked his phone across the room. It fell into a waste bin and all he had to say about it was, "Oops." He buried his face into a pillow and shouted a little before he heard the waste bin vibrate and a ding echo from its abyss. He perked right up, eyes bright on the basket. He didn't move for a full minute, then leapt from the bed and across the room.

 **Lovi** : Yeah

That's all it said. Antonio huffed a laugh under his breath.

 **Antonio** : hope you have fun :)

Antonio didn't look away from his phone until the next text popped up.

 **Lovi** : Thanks

Then Antonio sighed, letting his hand fall to his side and looking at the ceiling of his room.

He was so screwed.

-/-

That night, Antonio needed something to get his mind off his empty message inbox and the cute pizza date that was happening miles away. Books didn't work. Surfing the internet on his phone didn't either. Finally, after many other abandoned activities that had failed to keep his mind occupied, Antonio decided to listen to some music. It always helped his thoughts wonder, even though it held the same threat of wandering back to where he didn't want them to go.

He didn't care. Antonio found himself in his father's living room a minute later, scanning through the many CDs there and deciding which ones he wanted to take upstairs. Those CDs were his father's dearest possessions, but he'd granted Antonio the trust of taking them and treating them as he'd want them to be treated. When he'd finally given Antonio that permission it had been one of the proudest moments of his life.

He had a stack of about four CD cases going before his father entered the room.

"Hey, getting some good tunes?" he asked, as if the answer wasn't obvious. Antonio smiled all the same.

"Yep!" he exclaimed then went back to his browsing. His father continued to hover in the doorway though. He looked unsure whether to stay or leave and Antonio eventually turned to him with a confused smile. "Is something wrong?" his voice was on edge as he said it. The last time his father had acted this way was when he'd grounded him two days before. Before that, he wasn't sure how long…

"No," his father shook his head, shifting in his spot. Antonio recognized the same thing he did when he was nervous. "I was just… you know why I had to ground you, right?"

Antonio furrowed his brow. "Yeah. 'Cause I lied to you."

His father nodded his head. "Right. I mean, you could have gotten hurt and then I wouldn't have had any idea where you were. You know how dangerous that is, right?"

Antonio smiled a little at his father's concern. He didn't like making his father worry, but it showed he cared. "I'm sorry I did that, Papa. I know it's really dangerous. I won't do it again." Antonio had to bite back a comment on how cheesy the whole exchange sounded to him.

His father shook his head again. "No. Antonio, I just need you to see-" he furrowed his brow, looking for the right words, "You can tell me anything, okay? And I'll try to understand. And I'll try not to get mad. But, whatever it is, you can tell me. If you want to go see your friends in Oregon again, then _tell me_. Okay?"

Antonio looked at his father in shock, a lump forming in his throat. He was speechless. He'd never heard his dad say anything like this. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Antonio forced out an, "Okay, Papa."

"Who knows," his dad smiled, leaning on the doorway like a huge weight had come off his shoulders, "Maybe next year you'll actually have your license and you can go _legally_."

Antonio nodded silently, lump in his throat growing bigger. He looked away, down at the stack of CDs.

"Okay," his dad said and Antonio saw that he was getting ready to leave, "Thanks, Antonio. Just remember that. Okay? Don't be afraid to tell me _anything_."

Just as he was leaving the room, Antonio practically shouted, "Wait!"

His father stopped, shooting a confused look over his shoulder. When his dad stepped back into the room, closer to Antonio this time with concern on his face, Antonio bit his lip.

 _Don't be afraid to tell me anything._

"What if…" he blurted before thinking better of it. He tried to piece together his words in a better way. "You said I could tell you anything. Could I ask you advice on a problem my friend is having?" Antonio felt totally transparent. There was nothing older in the book than the 'this is advice for my friend' excuse.

The concern and surprise on his father's face quickly melted into understanding. He smiled. "Of course."

"Alright," he started, "So this guy might like someone, but it's really complicated. For one, the other person is a guy, and he'd never really considered liking a guy before. He isn't really freaked out by it, just taken off guard, you know? Then there's the fact that the guy is his _best friend._ And is going out with another one of his _best friends_. And, yeah, the guy is really happy for them, but it's kinda killing him inside. And he feels super bad that it's killing him inside because they seem happy together - even if they constantly make fun of each other, he knows that's just how they show affection. And now the guy is just really confused and he also has a girlfriend and doesn't know what to do. Like, does he still like her? Is it okay that he's still with her?"

Antonio snapped his mouth shut before he could say anything else, knowing that had definitely not gone as well as he'd hoped. He looked cautiously up at his father, who seemed to be considering. He had one hand on his chin and he hummed. "That _is_ a tricky one." He continued to hum and contemplate as he moved across the room, resting across from Antonio, legs criss-crossed on the floor. He started to look through the CDs Antonio had picked in silence and Antonio was left sitting there, waiting for an answer.

"I'd tell this boy to try sorting out his feelings first," he said at last. "If he doesn't know if he still likes the girl, then he should try to figure it out. It isn't bad to give himself time to decide. Spending time with the girlfriend might help, but he shouldn't lead her on. If he finds he still likes the girl, then having other crushes isn't so bad. If he likes the boy _more_ than the girl, then it's up to him to do what he thinks is right." His dad put down the CD he was currently holding to look at Antonio. "Okay?"

"But…" Antonio asked, "What if he can't figure it out? Or what if he does and things get even messier?"

"I think he'll figure it out. The heart is a strong thing." his dad said, "As for it getting messier, things in life will always be messy. And they get a hell of a lot messier when you're working toward something that's worth it."

Antonio nodded, still feeling like so many questions remained unanswered. He didn't know how to address them though. He guessed this was something there was no definite solution for. Antonio would have to work a lot of it out on his own.

"Alright, well I gotta go empty the dishwasher," his dad said, standing up. He paused, looking down on his son. "You gonna be alright?"

"Yeah," Antonio shot him up a smile. He was grateful for his father's help, even if it left him more confused than before. "I'm good."

"Well, I'll be down here if you need me," he winked as he backed away toward the door, "I wish your friend luck." he had a knowing smirk on his face and Antonio blushed. He knew how obvious he'd been, but he'd been hoping their oblivious Fernandez genes would help in this scenario.

"Thanks, Papa," Antonio smiled sheepishly and his father disappeared out the door. Antonio slumped, burying his face in his hands. "Great," he mumbled to himself. When he found it safe to peak his head up, Antonio was ready to retreat to his room and come out _never_. He went to gather his stack of CDs when his eyes caught on something on the shelf.

It was a blank CD case, a cheap green and clear plasticky thing. When he pulled it out, he flipped it over to examine both back and front. The back was just that horrible green. The front was clear, showing the CD inside. On the pearly surface, there were words in black permanent marker.

 _ **Para Sandra, el corazon de mí vida**_

Antonio froze. Did that say… Sandra?

Antonio immediately felt like he shouldn't be holding it. Or, if he was, with rubber gloves and bubble wrap. It must have been a relic if it was truly a CD for his mother. How long did it date back to? Their marriage? When they were _dating_?

Should he even be _seeing_ this? Why was it on the shelf to begin with? His father's shelf was _sacred_ to him. He would know if he had it there.

There were so many questions passing through his mind and none of them was he able to pin down or answer. Antonio was still sitting there, holding the CD case like some antique vase, unsure what the hell to do.

He should put it back. It wasn't his business and he probably shouldn't have seen it.

But his dad must have known it was there. And he'd given Antonio permission to listen to any CD.

He must have forgotten it was there then. He wouldn't have wanted Antonio to see something like this. Something so personal. Something probably better left in the past where it belonged.

Antonio's eyes danced across the words scattered across its surface. They were numbered and scrunched together like the person who'd written them hadn't expected it to take up so much room. The tracks. It was a mixtape from so long ago. A history never heard by Antonio's ears. He really shouldn't be holding it. He really shouldn't be seeing it.

In a split second decision, Antonio put it on top of his working stack. Five CDs. Before he could think about it, he scooped them all up and ran to his room.

It was the first CD he slipped into the player and he sat right in front of the speakers. The first song came on.

" _Doodoodoo, doodoodoodoo…_ "

* * *

 _ **CV: Hey, here's an update! This chapter kicked my ass, as you could probably tell from the super long update time. I'm still not happy with it, but I wanted it out of my life. So, tada! My apologies. It's tiny and I have no guarantees for more frequent updates because of school, but here ya are. If you're still following this story, you deserve it.**_

 _ **Also, school cannot take blame for the entire lack of updates. On top of laziness and procrastination, I have also been working on other fics as well. If you like VLD, I've got a couple on my Ao3 as well as some in the making. (also codevassie over there :) )**_

 _ **Annnd, I've got a playlist for this fic too if anyone's interested. Hope this link works. It includes the song this chapter ended on:**_ **"Semi-Charmed Life"** **by Third Eye Blind** _**as well as the title**_ **"Hear Me"** **by** **Imagine Dragons** _ **and other songs that I associate with the fic and stuff. It's small but I'll probably add onto it.**_

 _ **playlist?list=PLsQ0Ho4hiaomQAvu0ndQQAV5gasnqBWgh**_

 _ **If you can't access the link try my Tumblr as well. If anyone has a better idea to make it more accessible, I'd love to hear :)**_

 _ **One last thing (I swear it's quick). The Spanish in this chapter was from my head, but I don't trust my school learned Spanish, so let me know if it's incorrect if you can.**_

 _ **Alright. Thanks a ton, guys!**_


	11. Chapter 11

Lovino's grandfather had the world's oldest vacuum. Antonio knew this because Lovino would not stop complaining about it all day.

 **Lovi** : I mean, look at this thing

 **Lovi** : [Image Attached]

 **Lovi** : It's fucking ancient! And if it breaks on my watch, which it will, just you see, Nonno's going to be pissed and then I'm going to be pissed and it'll be this big fucking mess.

 **Lovi** : And I really didn't need freaking Nonno up my ass today. It's supposed to be my day off from the store and now I've got chores? Wth?!

 **Antonio** : u'll do fine. dont think so much loooviii

 **Lovi** : Ew did you just type "u'll"

Antonio chuckled and stared at the bright screen. He tapped his foot to the music around him and looked up, eyebrows furrowing like Lovino's so often did once he got a look at his room.

It was dark in there. When had that happened? Only a few seconds ago it had been, like, three? Now his room was only illuminated by the light of his cell phone screen and the dull green of the CD player over on his desk.

His grounding ended tomorrow and, finally, he would be able to see Francis again and leave! Antonio wasn't the type wired for staying in one place for so long, especially on the sunny California days that had been mocking him outside his window all week. And especially _especially_ when Gilbert was due back any day now.

When the doorbell rang, immediately Antonio knew who it must have been.

"Speak of the devil," he grinned and ran out his bedroom door, flinching briefly at the bright hall lights before rushing to the railing at the top of the staircase and looking down. His father was already at the door and he could hear muffled voices talking to him.

"Sir, Gilbert just got here and Antonio only has a few more days. We thought, perhaps, if just for the night, we could borrow him? I realize it isn't our place, but-"

"His grounding ends tomorrow! Could you just cut him slack? Just a little, man," another, much louder voice butted in.

"Gilbert! Are you trying to get Antonio into even _more_ trouble?" the first hissed and Antonio shook his head at his friends, smiling despite himself. That was when his father looked up and spotted him. Antonio stopped dead in his tracks, caught.

"Antonio?" his father spoke, prompting him to… what? Speak?

Antonio waved, shoulders scrunched and smile sheepish. His father sighed and then, to his relief, smiled.

"Go on," he relented and Antonio bolted down the stairs and out the door in two seconds flat.

"Gracias, Papa! I'll be home by ten!"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, as if done with it, but his amused smirk gave him away. Antonio smiled and turned to his friends.

All three of them were there now, standing in the streets of suburban California and looking as excited and mischievous as they had when they were kids. _Because_ they hadn't been together in the suburban summer streets of California together since they were kids.

Antonio wasn't sure about the other two, but in that moment, he felt like he could own the world.

-/-

Everytime Antonio listened to the CD, he got a sense of nostalgia that he had no place in feeling. He sure wasn't supposed to be listening to it and he sure wasn't supposed to feel so happy about all the familiar music he heard, but he couldn't help it.

He recognized the CD now that he was listening to it in full. When he was younger, his mom used to play it in her car all over the place. Antonio knew the songs like the back of his hand, but the lyrics only by the made up words he'd associated with them when he was little. Since he really wasn't going to try to sing along with those, when he lay in his bed, listening to the old songs, he hummed them out. It was oddly comforting, like an old lullaby.

The songs filled his heart with contentment and happy memories. He thought of looking up at the window of the car and the bright sun streaking through the dull tint. He thought of his mother at the wheel and the radio making the car dance. He would have crayons or some action figure or maybe just his soccer ball in his lap and he'd kick his legs around from the elevated platform of the car seat he sat in.

At the same time, though, it was really… bittersweet? It was as if raw melancholy echoed around his head and reminded his heart of simpler times, innocent days, a happy family. Those were the days where his mother and father had been in love. When his mother didn't have to work every day at a grocery store where people got frustrated and yelled at her, and she had to work long hours. When Antonio saw his father every evening before he went to bed and every morning before school and not just on school breaks.

But it had also been a time where his parents had fought a lot. It had been a time where they had been deciding what to do about their lives. How to split from someone they still loved. How to continue raising their child when they couldn't even handle themselves or each other. Antonio remembered a lot of the happier times, but the difficult times had still been there too.

A week later, it was time to board a plane back to New York.

He was caught between leaving the CD behind and…

"Antonio."

Antonio quickly hid the CD case and turned. "Hey," he greeted.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah, yeah. Let me just- I'll be right down."

"Alright. Don't be too long. You've got a plane to catch," his father replied and shut his door. Antonio sighed in relief and took the CD back out.

These CDs meant the world to his father. He couldn't take any of them. Especially not this one.

He couldn't take it. He sighed again and put the CD down.

"Antonio?" his name was called up the stairs. Antonio sprang into action and hoisted his suitcase with him down the stairs and out the door.

There was no turning back now.

At the airport, his father had that look in his eye. He was smiley and bright, but it was subdued. "Take care, Antonio."

"I will, Papa," Antonio replied and his dad took him into his arms, practically squeezing the life out of him. Antonio wrapped his own arms around his father and hugged too. It wouldn't be until Christmas break until he saw him again. "I'll miss you," he said - possibly the truest words he'd ever said in parting his father.

"Me too, Toni," his father laughed, making Antonio smile. His dad pulled away and held him at shoulder length. "I'll see you at Christmas, okay? And don't forget met to call." He was trying so hard to be upbeat about this.

"Yeah," Antonio said, a pleased smile lighting his face. Then, with some difficulty, he stepped away. "See you."

He turned and made his way across the gate, glancing behind him one more time before he was gone. Surrounded by loved ones meeting and busy bodies hustling around, standing still and watching Antonio leave with that melancholic expression on his face, his dad looked like the loneliest person in the world.

"Hey, Antonio!" his father called one last time, raising a hand to wave. "And good luck with Lovino!"

Antonio's eyes went comically wide at this and his dad cracked up beyond the barrier of the gate. Antonio tried to scowl at his dad like he'd learned from Lovino, but he was afraid his face was much too red for that, so he waved and ducked around the corner, leaving California for the maze of corridors of the airport.

He could have sworn he was still flushed when he'd boarded the plane and found his seat. After stowing his bag, Antonio sat very very still, thinking over his father's words. Then, he burst into laughter.

He got quite a few weird looks for it, but Antonio had never cared about that sort of thing. He pulled out his phone before the plane took off and texted his dad.

 **Antonio** : thanks for giving me a heart attack back there

 **Papa** : No problem. Just doing my duty as your father

 **Papa** : But really Antonio. Good luck

 **Antonio** : thanks papa

Antonio put his phone away then and instead took out tech much older than his simple smartphone. He plugged in the headphones and pushed the 'Play' button.

" _Doodoodoo_ , _doodoodoodoo_ …"

-/-

It didn't take Antonio long to settle back down back in New York. It was his home, after all. His true home. He loved California, but there was nowhere quite like New York.

One of the first things he did when he got back after his mother had picked him up at the airport, giving him enough suffocating hugs and kisses for two years of his life, Antonio had thrown his suitcase into his room and taken off out the door.

"Going to see Lovino?" His mother had asked, stopping him on the porch and he had nodded, grinning like a mad man. It had only been a month since they'd met at their tree, toward the end of the school year and before California and Oregon, but that felt like forever to Antonio.

When he got there, Lovino was already there. His plane had arrived back yesterday, a great coincidence in Antonio's opinion. When Lovino looked up as Antonio approached, he looked surprised to see him.

"You're back," he said and Antonio grinned, plopping down next to him.

"So I am."

And, like a spell shattering some awkward curse around them, Lovino laughed and everything was right.

Antonio leaned against his friend and chuckled along.

Everything was right.

-/-

From what Antonio had gathered from his friend, Lovino and Gilbert were not _a thing_.

Which was a relief to Antonio and, in turn, made him feel guilty.

Apparently, their date had gone well back in Oregon, something both Lovino and Gilbert had told him rather shyly. It had included a lot of awkward eye contact and laughing at each other, but it sounded cute and Antonio was happy that his friends had had a good time.

Antonio noticed in the time he and Lovino hung out by their tree that summer that Lovino texted Gilbert a lot. And he would snort and laugh when he read whatever it was there on the screen. And he would type away for so long that Antonio couldn't help wondering what in the world the two were talking about.

And then Francis and Gilbert came to New York and all Antonio could focus on were the times Gilbert and Lovino sat next to each other or when Gilbert leaned over and whispered something in Lovino's ear that made him laugh or when they punched each other in the shoulders because one of them had said something stupid.

Antonio's chest ached and a jealous fire flickered in his chest. Most people knew him as the level-headed, perhaps a little daft, but cool person he put up with his smile at school. But fire and passion roared within him as well and that fueled his jealousy no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. His friends were _happy_. Why would he ruin that?

He wouldn't. But that didn't stop his feelings from swirling like a maelstrom in his chest.

Antonio was almost relieved to spend so much time with Emma that summer. Almost. It was difficult the first time he saw her again after what he'd realized in Oregon.

"Toni! You're back!" She had exclaimed when they'd met up in a diner downtown. When she'd practically tackled him in a hug, he'd been paralyzed until she'd pulled back, a slight frown gracing her pretty features. "What's wrong?"

Antonio's mouth had opened of its own accord, but no words were able to come out. It wasn't until Emma stepped back with worried eyes that he snapped out of it with a smile of his own.

It was natural to put a smile on his face, he realized, even when the smile wasn't natural itself.

"Nothing's wrong. Sorry, I was just surprised," he chuckled but Emma still looked skeptical.

"Surprised? I always hug you when I see you."

"Yeah. Sorry, guess I just forgot with how long I haven't seen you. I missed you though," he liked and felt a little guilty until a genuine smile appeared on Emma's face. Maybe if a little lie like that made her so happy it was okay?

But shouldn't he have missed his girlfriend?

In the weeks following, Antonio had his fair share of socialization and activity. There was practically no downtime and definitely no time for boredom between dates with Emma and hanging out with Francis, Gilbert, and Lovino. A lot of time had to be taken from his and Lovino's tree in the park, but, as far as he could tell, neither he nor Lovino minded too much with so much else going on.

As far as he could tell until one day, Antonio magically had some downtime for himself.

It was second nature to walk to the park at times like this and, to Antonio's surprise, Lovino was there too.

"Hey," he greeted, waving as he walked up. Lovino looked up, as surprised as Antonio had felt. It looked like he was reading a book.

In answer, Lovino merely raised an eyebrow and went back to his book. They were close enough that that didn't bother Antonio. Lovino wasn't always one of many words, especially if he was focused on something. But there was an odd crease to his brow that, despite what a lot of people from school thought, wasn't always there.

Antonio knew that something must have been bothering Lovino.

"Alright," Antonio said, sitting down next to his friend and leaning against the tree. "What's up?"

Lovino peered out from behind his book, less than amused. Antonio knew it was a front.

"Nothing."

"I think you are lying," Antonio sang teasingly. Lovino frowned and looked back down at his book. Antonio's tone grew more serious now. "Lovino, come on."

"Got in a fight with my dad. No big deal," Lovino grumbled, not taking his eyes away from the volume. Antonio frowned.

Not a big deal? This coming from the guy who did anything in his power to impress his father? This from Lovino who may argue with his dad and try to pass it off as some sort of macho thing, but, in reality, the argument would stress him out until he buried himself in some textbook for the rest of the day? An argument from a father who only ever cared about Lovino's grades and Feliciano's therapy appointments?

"Tell me about it," Antonio prompted and watched as Lovino's knuckles tightened on the book's cover.

"He told me I shouldn't be goofing around so much. I told him it's the summertime and I don't have to be studying _all_ the time. We got into an argument about getting into college and crappy SAT scores, a test I haven't even _taken_ yet. Then he told me to get out of the house until I got my act together. So here I am," Lovino confessed, shrugging as if it really was no big deal and severely contradicting his own words. For a second, Antonio was frozen, seriously unsure as to what to say, then, like the bigmouth he is, he blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"He kicked you out of the house?!"

At this, Lovino finally looked up, lips pursed and shoulders folding in on each other. Then, he shrugged again. "Yeah?"

Antonio gaped for a second, mouth opening and closing, waiting for words to appear. Instead, he just stared at his friend.

"He kicked you out of the house," he repeated and Lovino huffed.

"Yes, idiot. As I've said," he said and shut his book, putting it down on the grass. He pivoted into a better position and laid back onto the grass, covering his eyes with an arm as if he was just going to take a nap after all of this.

"He can't do that!" Antonio exclaimed and Lovino peeked out from behind his arm.

"His house," he said, nonchalantly.

"But, but…" Antonio tried to protest.

"Listen," Lovino spoke up again, extracting his arm from his face to look up at his friend. "It really isn't that big of a deal. He'll cool off or I'll go pretend to study in my room. Things blow over."

At this, Antonio paused. His eyebrows furrowed further than they probably ever had, inspecting his friend like the answers he was looking for would be printed on his skin instead of in his head.

"Has this…" he asked, unsure if he really wanted to hear the words aloud, "Happened before?"

Lovino shrugged. That wasn't an answer Antonio would accept.

"Lovi-" he started before he was interrupted by an impatient Lovino.

"Sometimes, okay? It's not that big of a deal. I just come hang here for a bit."

For something Lovino kept insisting wasn't a big deal, Antonio couldn't help but see it as one in his head.

"Lovino, why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Antonio asked and Lovino sighed long and suffering. He dropped his arm back over his eyes.

"Because I knew you would make it a big deal like this! Besides, it's only happened recently, so I know he's going to get tired of it soon. It's not something that needs _fixing_."

"But, Lovino, this isn't right. You're his _son_. He shouldn't just throw you aside like that! You aren't some perfect person who can devote their whole life to making him happy!" Antonio argued and, like a flash, Lovino had sat up to look at him, fire in his eyes.

"You're right. It isn't fair. But, you know what? There isn't anything we can do about it, so why don't we shut up now and I'll take a nap and this will all blow over in a couple hours?"

At this, Antonio was stunned. Lovino could do angry. He could do so much anger and frustration and he could scream and yell and punch the wall. But never, and Antonio swears never, has Lovino been able to call out his own father for his shit. Never has he said anything about how unjust, how shitty his father treats him, even when Antonio argues until Lovino can no longer deny it. He's never said a single word against him.

It turned out there was a breaking point to Lovino's tolerance of his shitty father.

And there was hopelessness in Lovino's blood as well. There was a part of him that knew he couldn't solve everything with sarcasm and snide comments. There was a part of him that could give up.

And Antonio didn't know what to do about this new part of Lovino he'd never seen before. So he did something he never did. He shut up.

A few hours passed and Antonio simply sat there, watching passerby and soaking up the summer heat. When Lovino sat up as the sun was setting, Antonio guessed that he really hadn't slept at all.

"I better get back," he said and Antonio nodded, standing up with him. They walked back together, silent as they come and don't stop until they reached their houses.

They both stood there, watching one dark house and one lit one. Antonio guessed that Francis and Gilbert were home from the movie Antonio had decided not to see with them.

"Feli must not be home," Lovino said, regarding his own house.

"You're welcome to mine," Antonio said, gesturing at his own house but Lovino shook his head.

"No. I'm going to just head in," Lovino said, and made to move away, but Antonio caught his arm. Lovino looked back, first at Antonio's hand, then up to his face.

"No, I mean, you're welcome whenever," Antonio said. "If you ever need somewhere to go. Our door is always open. And my window too," Antonio said the last part teasingly, but made sure his eyes burned their sincerity into Lovino's.

Lovino averted his gaze and nodded. "Yeah. Um, thanks, Antonio."

"No problem," he said, then spread his arms. "Now, give me a hug, little tomato!"

As Antonio threw his arms around Lovino, the other boy sputtered, trying to pull away in his indignance.

"Ugh! Antonio, I thought you stopped calling me that when we were kids!"

Antonio gasped. "Never! You will always be the little tomato, no matter how old we are, Lovi!"

"Gross! No, take that back! I refuse to hear that nickname any longer!" Lovino argued, punching his chest lightly. Antonio laughed.

"Tomato! Tomato! Tomato!" Antonio teased and, like it had when they were kids, Lovino's face grew ten shades too red. Eventually, though, he got his friend to laugh and rest his forehead against his chest.

The street grew darker around them, but the two boys simply kept on laughing.

-/-

Towards the end of summer, Antonio was invited to a bonfire down by the lake by a couple of students at his school. Matthias had said it was cool if he brought his friends along, so on a late July night, Antonio found himself in his mom's van, driving himself along with Francis, Gilbert, and a very reluctant Lovino to this party.

Antonio had been pretty excited for this party at the beginning, thinking that he could joke around with his friends, introduce them to his other friends from school. Then, maybe he could go hang out with Lovino in whatever secluded corner he'd found himself in so he could spend some time with the best friend he hadn't seen in ages.

Things never went quite as Antonio expected them to though. Because, as soon as they had stepped foot on that beach where about twenty other people from his school were crowded, whooping loudly or laughing to some joke that probably wasn't even funny due to alcohol consumption, that's when Antonio ran into Emma.

"Toni! Good, I found you. Matthias said he'd invited you so I've been looking everywhere." At this, Emma linked their arms, steering him in the opposite direction and away from his friends. "Come on. Let's go sit at the fire. I was there earlier and it's so nice. All we need is an acoustic guitar and it'll be like from the movies. Well, that and a lot less partying. And maybe not the pot my brother brought. I swear, I can't escape it." Emma rolled her eyes but didn't seem to mind it all that much.

So Antonio was led to a spot by the bonfire. He half expected to sit on a log like you really did see in the movies, but found them both sitting rather on the sand, backs to the lake the bonfire had advantageously been situated by. Antonio supposed bonfires were usually either by lakes or in the middle of nowhere to avoid wildfires.

When he looked around, he found his friends already mingling, mixing into the group with ease. Antonio was put at ease by that, but his heart still worried about wherever Lovino had found himself. It wasn't like he had wanted to come in the first place.

But soon Antonio had been dragged into conversation. With Emma. With those around them. And with Francis and Gilbert when they swung around. Still, Lovino was nowhere to be seen.

With all the commotion around him, though, this thought was forced to the back of his mind and, with Emma half hugging him and all the people around to talk to, Antonio lost track of time.

By the time he remembered after a particularly long lull in conversation he was actively participating in, Antonio knew at least an hour had gone by. He worried that Lovino might have just walked home himself from boredom, so, finally, Antonio claimed he was thirsty and detached himself from Emma to escape.

As he circled around the fire looking for his friend, Antonio actually found the cooler first and figured he could grab something while he was there.

The ice chest was a considerable distance from the fire, so as to keep the ice inside from melting. When he approached though, he heard something he wasn't expecting. Laughter. A beautiful sound he knew well.

He looked up then, scanning his surroundings. When his eyes finally fell on a shadow leaning against one of the trees a good distance from the bonfire, his heart sunk. There were two shadows there. One obviously Lovino, a mirthful smirk on his lips and the faintest traces of a blush on his cheeks in the firelight.

The other was Gilbert. He was equally bashful and in high spirits. It was just like every time they spent together that Antonio had seen, but this seemed more intimate. They were close and alone together. And it was obvious they liked each other.

Antonio stayed there for longer than he should have. He was hidden in the shadows where the cooler sat so nobody asked him what he was doing. He watched as they laughed together and his heart weighed heavily on him. When he came to his senses he shook his head, turning back to the cooler. He found a water and was preparing to go back to the bonfire when a voice caught his attention. It was low and shy, but it rang perfectly clear in Antonio's ears.

"Can I… um, can I kiss you?" Gilbert asked. This was met with the longest silence known to man, all the while Antonio found himself holding his breath to hear.

Then, "Okay."

Antonio looked before he knew what he was doing. He saw Gilbert's hand come up to hold Lovino's cheek delicately and the two were impossibly close. Then, before anything else could happen, Antonio turned away. He didn't want to be here for this. He didn't want to see it. It was rude to watch, but, more than that, Antonio didn't think he could handle it.

So he made his way back to the bonfire and was silent, all but the briefest of comments, for the rest of the night.

When he and Francis and Gilbert and Lovino met up again to drive home, Gilbert and Lovino were oddly silent too. It was a happier silence than what Antonio suffered though.

The whole ride home, Antonio had to stop himself from looking in his rearview mirror where Gilbert and Lovino sat in the back, blushing and keeping their gazes out their respective windows. Francis, of course, was as intuitive as always, so Antonio's avoided his gaze too.

Antonio was glad to get home and curl up to sleep, his heart heavy. It hurt. More than any crush had before. But Antonio didn't let himself think about it.

* * *

 _ **CV: I'll admit, I didn't put a lot of time into editing this. But eh. (i must sound so lazy in these a/n's lol) So, I wanted to say thank you to everyone who's commented and to that guest who recently did so. You help me keep going on this fic, so thank you all so much! It helps more than you know.**_

 _ **Side note: i didn't realize it at the time, but i actually marathoned Harry Potter on my birthday and recently i was like "wait a minute. that's what Lovi does in this fic ahhh"**_


	12. Chapter 12

It was nearing the end of summer and, in no time, Gilbert and Francis were already back in California. Part of Antonio missed his friends; it was difficult only seeing them on Skype and the holidays. The other part of him was very relieved. He wasn't sure how much more flirt/teasing he could take between Gilbert and Lovino.

The summer had been nice. Certainly a lot more eventful than any others. But, as school neared and the stores were slammed with frantic families buying crayons for their rising kindergarteners, and moody teenagers brought along for the ride to grab a notebook or two for their own classes, Antonio was beginning to feel like normalcy might be within reach again.

The first day back was like a breath of fresh air. The halls were bustling in a way only the very beginning of a fall semester could cause. Some students wore new clothes, like the start of school was some important event they had to look sharp for. Antonio looked down at his own clothes - jeans with a small blue paint drop toward the bottom that no one would really notice, and a plain red t-shirt - and decided his first impression on his teachers would be about what they really should expect from him.

Antonio got to his homeroom and greeted the many familiar faces, many who he hadn't seen since the previous semester and some he'd only seen fleetingly. Anyone other than Lovino and Emma he'd seen during the summer had either been at that one party or we're back in California now.

When he sat down in a seat, picked totally at random to be honest, someone had already materialized in front of it, one of those familiar faces from the summer.

"Hey, Toni," Emma greeted sweetly and casually leaned on his desk. Antonio smiled up at her, the normal stone of guilt dropping discreetly into his gut.

"Hi, Emma. Having a good morning?" he asked conversationally. They talked for a bit before the bell rang and their teacher requested they all take their seats. The relief outweighed Antonio's guilt for a brief second.

Homeroom didn't last for long, which Antonio took as a good thing. His conversation with Emma had left him a little emotionally drained.

So much for "a breath of fresh air" and "normalcy."

His next class he didn't have with Emma. And, more importantly, he most certainly _did_ have it with Lovino.

At the thought, the stone in his gut grew heavier, but Antonio ignored it. He hoisted his bag, ready to get where he was meant to be. But, if he had been anticipating salvaging any of that normalcy he was so ready for during first period, Antonio was very wrong again.

There was something off about Lovino.

He couldn't put his finger quite on what, but the way Lovino was acting - it was different. _Off_.

So he watched him in the other classes they shared too. The whole day, Antonio couldn't put his finger on what was so different. Until they met up at their tree after school.

"Lovi, what was that thing about a semester project Ms. Jones was telling us about?" Antonio asked. They had had Ms. Jones last year as well and it was one of the classes Antonio actually enjoyed. He was looking forward to the project, even if it sounded a bit hefty on the grade point average.

"Hm?" Lovino hummed, not having caught the question, and Antonio looked over. Lovino was leaning against the tree, scrolling through his phone on some app. Antonio repeated his question and, again, there was a hum from his friend. This one very noncommittal, accompanied by a shrug. "Dunno. Didn't really hear."

That was when it clicked in Antonio's head. What had been so off about Lovino. What he just couldn't put his finger on because, to any outsider it may have looked like a normal day for the boy. But Antonio knew better. He knew his best friend.

"You weren't listening?" Antonio asked, and it wasn't the kind of question that should have been accompanied by a massive lump of dread. Still, Antonio knew how seriously Lovino took his studies; even if it was only the first day.

"Not really," Lovino answered easily and Antonio looked at him with wide eyes. Lovino peered up from his phone. "What?"

Antonio swallowed and looked away. It was only the first day of school, right? And he was always telling Lovino not to be so hard on himself… not to take everything so seriously. Still, this did nothing but throw red flags up all over his mind.

Antonio shook his head, looking away. "Nothing."

-/-

Antonio didn't want to make a big deal out of it. Really. But his eyes wouldn't stop wondering to the desk in front of his. Or beside his. Or wherever Lovino happened to be sitting that class period.

Antonio refused to believe it was bothering him. He did note, though, that Lovino wasn't doing _anything_ at their tree after school. Antonio hadn't touched his timer since last semester.

He was maybe a bit paranoid about the matter, but, as a week eventually went by, Antonio spent less and less time taking notice of Lovino's study habits. Soccer practice was getting back into full swing, having taken the first week of school as break to split their summer practices and semester ones.

Things were busy again between practice and homework and Antonio relaxed, comforted by the thought that Lovino probably just wanted alone time to study. Or had finally realized that his previous habits were way over the top. There was nothing for him to worry about.

… or maybe not.

It was the third week of school and Antonio was walking home from practice when Feliciano caught up to him.

"Oh, hi, Feli!" he greeted with a wave. "What are you doing here?"

Feliciano smiled and waved himself, turning to walk with Antonio back to their respective houses. "I actually came to talk to you!"

Antonio furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Really? What about?"

"Lovino, dummy!" Feliciano answered and Antonio wanted to laugh. Of course.

Then, realization hit and Antonio asked, "Wait, what's wrong with Lovino?"

Feliciano's shoulders slouched just a bit at this. So slight that, if Antonio hadn't known him for years, he might not have seen it. "I was hoping you could tell me."

At Antonio's concerned eyes, Feliciano must have realized what exactly he'd said, because he jumped up and waved his hands. "Not that anything has to be _wrong_ with him! I just- well- he's acting different."

Antonio bit his lip and looked on ahead. "So you've noticed that too."

Feliciano nodded. "Yeah. He's always in his room and he's not even studying when he does so. Just, on his phone or listening to music. It's funny, isn't it? He's acting like a normal teenager and that's what makes us all worried."

Antonio snorted at this, but Feli continued.

"And he won't even eat dinner with us anymore! I mean, Dad doesn't a lot either, but, when he does, Lovi always just takes his plate upstairs. I think he and Dad are fighting."

"Fighting?" Antonio asked, unable to believe his ears. His thoughts went to the conversation he'd had with Lovino not too long ago, when his father had kicked him out of the house.

"Yeah. I don't know what about. Lovi won't tell me anything. But it's obvious they aren't on good terms right now," Feliciano explained, then looked up at him. "Could you talk to him? I know he'll talk to you."

Antonio paused, his feet momentarily losing forward motion without his head really interfering. Instead, it was preoccupied thinking about this.

Then, he nodded. Of course he'd talk to Lovino. He hadn't much talked to him the past few weeks other than in class, but they were still best friends. It was Antonio's duty to figure out what was up with him.

"Thank you so much, Antonio!" Feliciano exclaimed and enveloped him in the all-encompassing hug that was his specialty. By this time, they had stopped in front of their houses. There was nothing much else to say, so Feli waved goodbye and they both went in.

When Antonio got to his room, he remembered there was no practice Friday and considered visiting Lovino at their tree. He nodded to himself and switched his CD player on.

He could wait until Friday. After all, it was only a few days away.

-/-

The next day, Antonio was talking with Emma in homeroom when a sudden fear gripped him by the gut.

"So, are Gilbert and Lovino, like, a thing?" Emma asked, leaning into his desk conspiratorially. Antonio's throat went dry, like any other time the two were brought up in one context.

He scratched at his ear, trying to play it off. "Um… I'm not really sure. Gilbert's back in California now, so…"

"I mean, if they really like each other they could do a long distance relationship, right?" Emma asked, not realizing that with every word, a piece of Antonio's heart was chipping. Antonio mentally shook himself and gave an unsure smile.

"I don't really know. Sorry," he said with a shrug. A curious look crossed Emma's face and Antonio could imagine why. Gilbert and Lovino were both his best friends, so why didn't Antonio know?

Antonio was wondering the same thing himself.

But another train of thought also crossed his mind on the subject.

 _I like Lovino_. Antonio thought to himself. It was easy enough to acknowledge once he'd first gotten it through his head in Oregon, and eventually been consoled in the knowledge after that trip.

 _But I'm still with Emma._

It wasn't the first time Antonio had thought about it. How unfair he was being to Emma. He had thought about it quite frequently during the break, in fact, but hadn't done anything about it.

This was for a number of reasons. At the top, going to hang out with Emma had always been a great excuse to get away from Gilbert's and Lovino's flustered and shy advances on each other. But now that was no longer a problem and he still couldn't bring himself to change anything about their relationship. He couldn't shake the thought that he had been using her.

Their relationship was a constant, which was nice. It almost seemed normal now that they had been going out for five months - almost half a year. That fact alone made Antonio both more comfortable and uncomfortable with the arrangement they had. Man, and he thought life was less complicated nowadays.

He knew what he was doing was unfair to Emma and he really wanted to fix that. Emma didn't deserve this; she was a good person.

That didn't make it any less difficult.

The fear entangling his insides was centralized around this knowledge and, as he gazed at Emma's bright eyes, eager to gossip, a thousand thoughts whirled in his head.

"Hey, Emma-" he started to say. Then, the bell rang and their teacher called them to attention. Emma gave him a Look, one that looked annoyed by the bell's interruption and screamed, _Ugh. Talk after class_.

Then, she turned to the front and Antonio was left with the words stuck in his mouth, words he wasn't even sure he knew himself were.

Except, he might know what he had been about to say. And it definitely was not something to be said in a busy homeroom class at the start of the day.

So, when transition from homeroom to first period began and Emma turned to him to ask what he'd been saying, Antonio shrugged.

"Nothing important," he said, then got up from his seat to leave.

-/-

What did Antonio feel for Emma? What did he feel for Lovino?

Emma… Emma was safe. Constant. Reliable. He knew exactly what a relationship with her would entail, both between each other and the thoughts of their peers. He knew how to hold her hand, how to kiss her. He knew her.

And, as much as he knew Lovino too, there was plenty to learn if he ever took the dive to try a relationship with him.

Antonio didn't know anything about what a relationship with Lovino might be like. What would everyone think? How would they hold hands, how would they… kiss?

These things, in theory, were simple. But Antonio had only ever kissed Emma before and he severely doubted all kissing was the same.

Was it?

But… did Lovino even like him like that? What was he doing thinking about kissing when the attraction might not even go both ways? Would admitting his feelings just ruin their friendship?

Antonio swallowed nervously thinking about it. Their friendship was precious to him. They were closer than anything. They'd grown up together, they'd shared secrets with each other, good times and bad. How would feelings get in the way of that? How awkward could Antonio make it all by confessing?

It was better to just not. To keep it all in. To let things go on as they were. As they should.

Antonio had Emma. And Lovino… Lovino had Gilbert.

Still, how fair in all of this was it to stay with Emma? Even if Antonio never planned to advance his relationship with Lovino, how could he, in good conscience, stay with someone when he was constantly thinking of someone else?

Antonio thought back to the words he'd almost said in homeroom. What if he said it? What if he just… let it all go?

 _Hey, Emma? I think we should break up._

Would it hurt her? Would it hurt him? Would she hate him? Would he hate himself for having ruined something so pleasant between the two?

He could acknowledge that what they had wasn't… special. It was convenient. It was stable. It was nice, but it wasn't _it_.

Would things be better or worse if they broke up? Antonio really did enjoy her company - they could make great friends even if they weren't tied romantically. But would that be what Emma would want? And would Antonio merely become lonely after?

Antonio looked forward, at the back of Lovino's head. They were in history and neither boys were paying a lick of attention.

This wasn't about Antonio's loneliness though, was it? It was about being fair to Emma. It was about doing the right thing.

Because, with these feelings he had for Lovino, he couldn't be fair to her by staying in this relationship.

Maybe it was time to do the right thing.

-/-

It was Wednesday and, after practice, Lovino had decided to come over late. It was almost natural how easily he and Lovino spoke to Francis and Gilbert across Skype.

"You know what sucks?" Gilbert asked through the screen and, not stopping to let anyone even ask _what?_ went on. "We're on our Shakespeare unit in Lit and _Arthur_ won't seem to shut up about it."

"What play?" Lovino asked, curious and with little of his normal faux indifference.

"A Midsummer Night's Dream," Francis was the first to respond. "And isn't it a dream?"

"It's a waste of time," Gilbert grumbled and Antonio didn't miss the flat stare both Lovino and Francis shot at him. Antonio snorted.

"Bottom is just so dramatic," Francis carried on. "If the drama department puts it on this year, I am trying out for his role."

This time, Lovino snorted. "At your level of extra, you'll get the part."

Francis gasped, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. "Did Lovino Vargas just pay me a compliment?"

"I wouldn't take that as a compliment," Lovino quipped, yet turned just the slightest of reds anyway.

"I never thought I'd see the day," Francis continued, ignoring Lovino's protests and Gilbert's chuckles. The three went about like that and Antonio smiled, heart light with them all around each other again. He may have been relieved for school to start back, but he never could go long without his friends.

Antonio heard his phone vibrate on his desk, where he'd left it with his math homework when the video call had come in. Figuring the argument could go on even without him there for a minute or two, Antonio got up to check it.

Sitting down at his desk chair, he slid up the screen and clicked the message. His insides wove into tangles when he saw who it was from, but decided to shake his adrenaline spiked mind. It was only Emma. He liked Emma, remember?

 **Emma** : want to get ice cream after your practice tomorrow? I'm staying after school myself for tutoring.

Before he could think too much about it, Antonio typed out his reply and sent it, setting his phone back on the table and returning to his friends.

He still had to tell Emma. He had to tell her the truth. He had to be fair to her.

And he decided he would do it tomorrow.

 **Antonio** : sure

-/-

"I'm thinking about trying this new recipe," Emma commented once they'd sat down with their ice cream. She ate a tiny bite off her spoon, having elected for cup instead of cone. Antonio, meanwhile, was already having trouble keeping the treat from melting all over his hands. August was too hot and Antonio had not thought this through.

"Recipe?" Antonio asked, distracted by licking around his scoop and the encroaching thoughts that had been hounding him all day.

"Yeah, so it goes like this," Emma said and it didn't take much for her to go off into the intricacies of a challenging new pastry. Antonio listened, lips quirking up just so as he watched her talk.

Emma really was a fun person to be around. Antonio loved to listen to her and talk with her. She was passionate and kind and strong-willed. She'd make whoever she ended up with very happy.

A sadness weaved into Antonio's heart, but it wasn't at the prospect of letting Emma go. No, that was one thing he'd accepted, maybe even before he'd consciously done so. What made Antonio sad most of all was that he could possibly lose this after today.

Antonio wouldn't change his mind, but he really hoped it wouldn't ruin their friendship.

After ice cream and the two had started on their way home, Antonio finally pulled himself together and stopped, facing Emma. She went only one pace farther when she noticed he wasn't walking with her and paused as well, turning in her tracks.

"Antonio?"

"I think we should talk," Antonio said and was surprised when his voice came out without crack.

Emma bit her lip and nodded, stepping closer. "Okay."

It was silent between the two for a full minute. Emma was considering him with curious eyes, but did not speak up. She somehow knew that she had to give him time - that whatever this was, was important.

So Antonio sucked in a breath and said it.

"I think we should break up."

Antonio held his breath, awaiting her reply. He wasn't sure what he was expecting. Indignance? Tears? Surprise? Disappointment?

Instead, it was none of those things.

Instead, Emma said, "Okay."

Antonio's eyes shot open wider, regarding the girl across him in bewilderment. "What?" he breathed, sure he had heard wrong.

But Emma just shook her head and shrugged. "I said okay. I mean, I think we both kind of saw this coming. We get along, you know, but I don't think romance is something we've got going here."

Antonio was silent again, searching her face. She was calm, put together, maybe a little put out too, but understanding. So Antonio said the only thing that came to mind. "Oh."

At this, Emma laughed, just a short burst of humor, but it was enough to unravel the tension that had built between them. "Yeah, oh," she teased. "But… still friends, right?"

Antonio blinked, unable to believe his own ears, until he snapped out of it and couldn't help smiling too. "Yeah. Friends."

Emma nudged him, coming to stand next to him again so they could continue their trek homewards. "Alright, but don't blame me if I'm a little awkward at first. This may having been coming from a mile away, but we were still a thing. It'll take some getting used to."

Antonio laughed a little and the sound surprised him. Still, it didn't stop him from saying, "As put together as you are about this right now, I'd be surprised if you're more awkward than me about it all."

"We'll have to see about that," Emma said and, somehow, the rest of the way home wasn't awkward in the least. Somehow, it felt like everything Antonio had been preparing himself for, was fine.

-/-

The next day at school was… a _little_ awkward. Because it was a high school, news had gone around that Emma and him had called it quits almost immediately and, even though Emma was still amicable and talked to him as usual, it did come with an "everyone's watching us" vibe.

And Antonio could feel it too. In the halls. In class. When he talked to Emma or Lovino or anyone else. It was uncomfortable and Antonio kind of wished people would just stay in their own business.

People asked him about it too.

"I heard you and Emma broke up. Sorry, buddy."

"Did you and Emma really break up?"

"Who called it quits? Was she at least nice about it?"

For one thing, wow, did _no one_ think he had the guts to do the breaking up? For another, he barely talked to a lot of the people who approached him about it. How did they even know in the first place?

"You should stay out of other people's business," Lovino snipped at the most recent gossip who'd leaned over to Antonio's desk. The girl shot him a narrowed look, but backed off. Lovino rolled his eyes and went back to doodling on a piece of notebook paper.

Antonio leaned forward to both check out Lovino's sketches and thank him in a low whisper. "Thanks for that. Whatcha drawing?"

Lovino shrugged and continued his scribbles. Antonio pursed his lips, but continued either way. "Hey, so I don't have practice today. Wanna hang in the park?"

At this, Lovino's pencil stopped. He looked over his shoulder and Antonio could have sworn there was the faintest smile at the corners of his lips. Then, he turned back around like nothing had happened.

"Yeah, let's do that," Lovino responded.

-/-

Antonio had promised Feli he would talk to Lovino today, but he'd almost forgotten when Lovino pulled a deck of cards from his backpack and they started a game of Go Fish.

When he remembered, he was just about to ask for fours, but instead asked a different question.

"Hey, Lovino?" Antonio asked, lowering his cards a bit, but taking care that they stayed facing away from curious eyes.

Lovino looked up too, probably hearing the change in Antonio's tone and peering over his own cards.

"Yeah?" he asked, lifting a single inquisitive brow.

"Um. That… thing… hasn't happened again," Antonio tried, gesturing with a hand as if it could indicate exactly _what_ he was talking about. "Has it?"

Lovino leveled him with a deadpan stare. Then, he laid his cards down on the grass. "What 'thing,' Antonio?"

"You know," Antonio elaborated without really elaborating. He didn't want to say it for some reason. "The _thing_."

"Antonio," Lovino warned, crossing his arms and Antonio bit his lip. Okay, maybe a few more details…

"When you come here sometimes… you told me about it before school was in session again and I was really worried, but you said it's fine and-"

"You mean when I get kicked out of the house," Lovino said bluntly and Antonio paused. Then, he nodded, looking sheepish. Lovino leaned back and shrugged. "It happened once about a week ago, but I just came here to cool off. I'm just staying out of my dad's way mostly. If it's not convenient, he won't ask."

Antonio's eyebrows furrowed. "Last week?" he asked. "You should have called."

At this, Lovino just shook his head. "Trust me; it won't happen much anymore. He thought I was wasting a lot more time when I was hanging out with Gilbert."

Antonio bit down on his lip, mind coming to a sudden halt at their friend's name. It wasn't the conversation he was meaning to have. He should really stay on topic. But Antonio couldn't help but ask…

"So, you and Gilbert…" he said, eyes darting to their tree, then the sky, then down to the grass. "Are you guys still talking?"

It wasn't, directly speaking, what he was trying to say, but Antonio was skirting around all sorts of conversations that day.

"Yeah. I mean, we Skyped the other day in your room, remember?" Lovino said, and it was so naive for a Lovino comment that Antonio momentarily mistook him for his brother.

"But do you guys still talk apart from that?" Antonio asked. Meaning: are you guys together?

Lovino leaned back, distributing his weight onto his arms and regarding Antonio. "Text sometimes. We aren't dating, if that's what you mean."

Antonio almost visibly startled at the confession, but, instead, channeled all his extra energy into straightening out the cards in his hand. He took way too long to reply, if he was really going to reply at all, so Lovino spoke up again.

"Since we live across country and neither of us were really willing to put in the time to Skype date, we just decided to not."

"Oh," Antonio said, then realized he should probably say more. "Yeah, that makes sense. So, you guys are just friends now?"

"That'd be the term for it," Lovino said nonchalantly, but Antonio could hint traces of amusement under it.

"Guess we're both single Pringles now," Antonio commented nervously, then silently cursed himself.

"Guess so," Lovino said and looked back at his cards. "Now, are you gonna take your turn?"

Antonio really hoped his face wasn't burning when he finally asked for those fours.

-/-

Antonio couldn't get it out of his head. Especially now that they were laying so close together, on their bellies under the shade of their tree. Lovino had his phone stretched out in front of them, playing some TV show Antonio had picked at random.

The sun shined through the bows above them and it hit off the phone at times, nearly blinding Antonio, but he didn't complain, especially not when he really wasn't watching the show at all.

The sun wasn't the only thing that reflected on the screen's surface. When it hit the perfect angle, Antonio could see Lovino's face too.

There was no way he could confess now. No way.

They had both just gotten out of relationships (or whatever Lovino and Gilbert had been). Antonio couldn't jump to conclusions. He didn't know if Lovino could like him that way. Maybe he still liked Gilbert. Just because they called it quits for distance purposes didn't mean everything surrounding the two had rolled over and died.

 _I could ruin what we have. We're best friends. Lovino may not like me. I just got out of my relationship with Emma. He-_

His thoughts were cut off abruptly when Lovino spoke, low and so close to his ear. Antonio blinked and realized he had been leaning forward, forward, forward.

He could feel Lovino's breath dance across his skin when he spoke.

"Antonio," he murmured, gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips and back again. "What are you doing?"

"Oh," he said, own breath a mere puff and mesmerized by the sight before him. They were so close. So close…

Then, the sensation of his lips feathering across Lovino's caught his breath and his mind caught up to him.

 _What am I-_

He didn't have time to finish that thought before Lovino had pressed onward, leaving any traces of doubt Antonio may have had behind. Antonio shed rationality and uncertainty, leaving only room for the non-existent space between the two. His head was spinning, but his body was alive. His senses opened up, but all they could feel was _Lovino Lovino Lovino_.

Antonio had brought a hand up, cupping the other boy's cheek. Lovino had scooted closer.

The kiss was short in Antonio's mind, not ready to pull away, but, as soon as they caught their breaths, Lovino looked at him and he looked at Lovino.

There was bewilderment there. Surprise. Hope burning a blazing fire between them.

"Lovino-" Antonio said, a cocktail of emotion creating a hurricane in his chest, but, before he could make anything else out of his words - his very hopeful words, a hope so dizzying that he could have reached out and brought the other boy in to hold tight - a light jingle sang from his pocket.

Antonio blushed to the tips of his ears, but he reached into his pocket. Lovino was stunned momentarily, before his shoulders hunched up sheepishly. He looked away to let Antonio take the call and all Antonio could do was mutter an embarrassed, "Sorry."

Antonio averted his gaze and looked to the caller ID. He clicked answer immediately.

"Hey, Mom," he said, hoping his voice was level enough that she wouldn't think the call was unwanted. Or that he was off in any way.

But, then, she spoke.

"Antonio," she said, and his heart stopped at her voice. All other thoughts were briskly set aside as he focused solely on the call. "Could you come home when you are able?" she asked, voice wavering just slightly. She shook it off, but the tension was still there. "It isn't an emergency… Just when you can."

And Antonio knew there was only one thing he could do - one thing he would even consider when his mother sounded like this.

"I'm coming right now."

* * *

 ** _CV: Things were going too well; I'm sorry._**

 ** _Alright, a couple things bc I love to abuse the author's notes..._**

 ** _I wrote most of this last week during hell week of study, so, somehow, this deviated from my outline. Yeah, that kiss? Wasn't supposed to happen. But I'm keeping it. You also got more Brit Lit bc I got this book for Christmas and am in love with Hermia (though I didn't actually talk about her here)._**

 ** _Also, I have to ask, did one of you like my post about Hear Me last night? It was such a stupid little post, but I get really psyched about little things like that, so it really helped encourage me to get this editing done. Thank you, random citizen!_**

 ** _And thank you everyone who reads this, favorites, follows, comments! You guys keep me going (as slow as that might be)! Thanks so much and I'll see you in the next chapter!_**


	13. Chapter 13

Lovino was a leg bouncer. It wasn't the kind of thing most people would pin him for, and it was definitely the kind of thing he himself would get ticked about other people doing. It was distracting; how did people have that much energy in them to be in a constant state of motion like that?

Yet, somehow, he was one of those idiots. He bounced his legs in class, at home watching TV, eating lunch in the cafeteria.

And he especially bounced his leg now, the empty seat behind him not visible, but sure as hell noticeable. He couldn't hear Antonio's tapping pencil. The idiot never leaned forward to murmur something about the lecture or show him some stupid doodle he had made. The space just felt empty and it was unsettling.

Lovino could scoff and claim a day without Antonio was a break he well deserved, but, in reality, it was a punishment he still wasn't sure how he'd earned.

Lovino had been making efforts the past three- no, now four - weeks of school to zone out of class. He was bent on it, yet it had never been easier than this single day Antonio had not shown up.

And there were still more days like it to come.

Lovino's legs were starting to rock the desk and he frowned down at them. Still, they did not stop. He could stop them himself, he supposed, but it would not last for long. So he instead shifted them sideways; that way they jiggled a little more silently.

When he looked up, he noticed 'bright smile and glasses' giving him a look. Lovino narrowed his eyes and relayed death in his glare, enough to make the guy look away. Good. He had been starting to think his glare was becoming soft with how Antonio nor Gilbert even flinched at it. Not even Francis, now that Lovino thought about it. What was with those three?

Lovino wondered if Gilbert and Francis had talked to Antonio. Lovino himself hadn't. He was too much a coward.

Especially with what had happened right before Antonio had gotten that call from his mom. They hadn't talked about the kiss and Lovino really didn't want to now. Not with everything else going on.

He still couldn't quite believe it had happened. It was starting to feel like nothing more than a dream. Maybe he really _had_ made it all up in his head and this was the consequence for doing so.

Because, yeah, he had wanted to kiss Antonio for a long time now, but there had been a lot in the way. He could blame Emma, but he knew it was his own cowardice.

And he could say Gilbert wasn't just a distraction, but he'd then be a liar too.

So he thought he could like someone else. So he thought he could move the fuck on. He couldn't possibly deserve to stay hung up on Antonio for the rest of his life, could he? What was so wrong with _trying_ to give someone else a chance?

But, if that kiss had been real… shouldn't Lovino be happy he hadn't moved on?

This was way too complicated for a high schooler's life. Lovino wanted to return and exchange, please. He'd gladly take easy communication and understanding than whatever drama this was.

Lovino doubted easy communication and understanding was something he'd be good at in any life, but a guy can dream, right?

Then again, if a bit of miscommunication was the most of their problems, Lovino would probably be relieved at this point.

He really hoped Antonio was doing okay…

-/-

When Lovino got home that Monday afternoon, the whispers around the halls still bounced around his head. Everyone had been wondering _"Where's Antonio?" "Is he sick?" "What happened?"_ and most of them had come straight to him.

He scared off most people, but some of the more stupid ones–or bold, Antonio might say– would just march up to him in the hallway. Lovino, naturally, had told them it was none of their damn business and stormed away. Why the hell would he tell anyone what was going on with Antonio?

And, overall, he didn't. Except for one instance. Except for one person who he just couldn't ignore. And why? He wasn't even that certain, but he just couldn't ignore her when she asked,

" _Is he alright?"_

Faced with the green, concerned gaze of Antonio's ex, Lovino couldn't put up his cold exterior. Lovino couldn't ground his teeth together and turn away. For some reason, he couldn't lie when Emma showed such genuine concern because, as much as he had tried, he couldn't hate her. He knew she was just a _good person_.

So he had looked at her and sighed.

" _He's… going through something,"_ he'd said and left it at that. He hadn't turned right away, though. Not until Emma had nodded and placed a hand to his arm.

He'd expected something spectacular, some wise words of understanding, something profound, but Emma had squeezed his arm and turned away. Without a word, she had left.

And, now, Lovino couldn't get it out of his head.

He collapsed on his bed, facing up at the ceiling and letting out a hard, throaty sigh. He needed all the air out of his lungs. It was air he did not want. It was the same air breathed by the other kids at school; it was the same air as Emma and her understanding damn arm squeeze and the same air as bright smile and glasses guy.

And it was not the same air as Antonio. Because Lovino had not seen Antonio since he'd left the past weekend. Not been face-to-face with him since Friday.

Out of habit, Lovino looked up at the digital clock he kept at his desk. It was almost three o'clock. Calculations zipped through his head before he'd really considered what he was doing. He wouldn't call himself much of a math whiz–actually, he kind of hated math–but his brain had always had a knack for keeping an eye on the time.

He would sort the hours into categories and, from there, see what could be done–see how much could be done in a day. He didn't have anything to distract him from it today; still, he knew he certainly wouldn't be doing a thing the calculations drew out. Ignoring those thoughts had been a main objective of his the past weeks and, now that he had Antonio to worry about, he let that take up his time instead.

Still, an anxious mind is a trained one and he couldn't keep his thoughts from the clock for long.

Instead, he started to calculate the time differences of the world and imagined what Antonio was doing in his own. Three o'clock in New York. Eleven o'clock in California. If Antonio had been allowed to sleep in, he could still be in bed. Then again, Lovino wondered how much sleep he'd be getting at all.

Lovino pulled his phone from his pocket and stared at the dull screen. He'd had his text conversation with Antonio pulled up for days, trying to come up with something to say. The chat had occupied that screen and his thoughts since the texts Antonio had sent on Saturday, explaining what had happened and that he and his mother would be gone for a week or two in California.

The words had lacked their usual, sunny way of speaking. They didn't try to make things seem better than they were, though Lovino knew Antonio would try to do just that if he came face-to-face with Lovino. When Antonio hurt, he was afraid to bring others down with him. He was a self-sacrificing fool.

Lovino knew Antonio would probably say the same about him, but the fact of the matter was, these things were not the same. Lovino did not act happy when he wasn't. He didn't act like things were fine. He just kept people out of his business and that was his own choice.

Antonio, though, hid his emotions for the sake of others and Lovino couldn't break through that stupid, stubborn shell. They had been best friends since they were little, yet, in some ways, they barely knew each other at all.

"Ugh," Lovino grumbled, throwing his phone down so that his arm bounced on his bed. "Shut _up_."

His brain rarely listened to what he wanted, but, if he kept himself well enough busy he could keep things at a distance anyway. It was too bad that he couldn't keep himself busy enough, what with ignoring all things school and family related.

It sucked that lately he'd been so hell bent on rebelling against his father. But he had to. He wasn't exactly sure what he was trying to get from it, but he'd worked all his life to prove himself to the man and with little results. He was fed up with the constant demands.

He did not need to study all hours of the day to amount to something. He did not need to give over his life to some future he had no interest in. He could make himself the person he wanted to be, he could have a future for himself, and he could do it his own way.

He would be something without academic achievement. He could be more, just as Antonio had always tried to tell him.

And, even as his conscience ate away at his insides, Lovino had decided he was through with pleasing his father–or, trying and gaining nothing.

The thing was, Lovino felt a bit lost without the textbooks and the stress, without slipping nonchalant remarks about his stellar grades at the dinner table and eying his father for a reaction. And, most of all, he was completely lost without Antonio there with him.

Without his father, without Antonio,even without his brother since he'd shut himself away from those worried eyes too, sometimes, Lovino wondered if he could ever be his own person at all.

He was like a shell, a human with little purpose, seeking out people and turning away from them, seeking out things to keep his hands busy, his mind occupied. He felt empty and blank, even as worry and anxiety gnawed inside him.

Lovino caught himself then and shook his head hard. He had to stop thinking.

So, he stared at the ceiling and focused on keeping his eyes away from the clock.

-/-

A week later, Lovino stood at his window as a red truck pulled into Antonio's driveway. They were back relatively early and he's honestly surprised to have caught the moment they arrived.

He still hadn't said anything to Antonio since his friend had left. His phone had been a brick in his pocket, useless, heavy.

It was across the room at the moment, abandoned on his desk like his untouched textbooks and pencils.

Lovino left the window; doesn't even glance at the phone. He's still telling himself…

 _It's best to give Antonio his space._

-/-

Lovino remembered when he was eight and trying to learn his times tables. He hated times tables.

He refused to do them for the longest time, but Feli had wanted him to come outside so bad. He was lonely playing out there alone. Still, Lovino was scared. What if he failed again? What if he'd gotten worse? What if he disappointed their father again?

Lovino liked hanging out by the windows, basking in the sun, and he liked to lock himself in his room and draw with his crayons. His father was always annoyed when he came in to find that he'd done nothing, but it was still better. It was always better than if he'd actually _tried_.

Then, Feliciano came inside one day and was a lot cheerier than usual. Not that he was ever particularly mopey–not until he mentioned that he wished Lovino could come out too. But Feliciano was rarely ever _this_ ecstatic. Something like this usually only came out when Feliciano was able to be the people person he naturally was.

" _I met another boy today! He moved in next door!"_

And that was only shortly before Lovino first met Antonio. The next week, Feliciano played with this Antonio outside practically everyday and Lovino's new hobby was watching them from the window.

He stayed there for a while, skeptical of the new boy and what he could want with his brother. Eventually, he had had enough watching.

He didn't like this kid. Feliciano was _his_ brother. Why should he get to play with him while Lovino was stuck inside?

Lovino had glanced between his times tables, neat on his desk, untouched for days, and the window where, outside, his brother and the kid picked weeds for bouquets. His gaze swept back and forth for hours before he clenched a fist and turned from the window.

His lower lip wobbled and he shot a look at the closed bedroom door. Today was a day where he was expected to stay in his room, his father busy in his study, but he worried he could show up any moment.

Lovino considered the papers on his desk one more time before approaching. He pulled his chair out and climbed up, careful not to knock the papers on his way up. He didn't want to disturb them until he was _certain_.

He looked at the first one and remembered the answer. But there were so many…

He picked up his pencil and wrote in the 3.

And, then, it took another hour to pencil in the rest.

-/-

Lovino sat under their tree and tapped a wooden pencil to the rubber tip of his shoe. He had set aside some homework, settling on a mediocre well done and experiencing much more stress about it than he probably would have if he'd stressed over making it perfect.

But he was determined to show his father. He could make good grades, damn it. And he didn't need to devote his entire life to it.

Because his "mediocre well done" was still a well done. It was good. It was only mediocre because he'd come to associate trading any free time, any relaxation, sleep, for papers that didn't need it.

He was still willing his brain to calm down. Fuck that paper. All his teacher wanted was a short summary of the novel; he didn't need to get caught up in _Is it all summed up well enough? Is it too short? Too long? Did I-_

"Lovino," a voice to his left spoke, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin. He whipped around to see the last person he'd expected, despite this being their spot. Despite knowing no one else but maybe Feli knew about this spot.

"Antonio," Lovino responded in kind, voice cracking a bit and his hand coming up to cover it, as if he could prevent Antonio from hearing.

And maybe he didn't. Because, while Antonio would usually smile and tease him about it, he didn't do anything now. Instead, he gestured to the grass and asked, "Can I sit?"

Lovino's eyebrows came together in a tight arrow and he couldn't help snapping, "Of course, idiot." He got snippy when he was worried and Antonio must have known it too because a ghost of a smile flickered across his lips as he took a seat.

Neither of them spoke. To be honest, Lovino was a little scared to. He didn't know what to say and, if he opened his mouth again, something else angry might come out. So he waited for Antonio to say something, like he usually did when he didn't trust his words.

But Antonio didn't say anything and they sat in silence.

Eventually, Lovino thought anything would be better than this. Damn it, why couldn't he just say something? He hadn't texted Antonio the whole time he'd been gone or the days he'd been back and now, here he was, giving him some sort of silent treatment.

There had to have been something. He had to say _something_.

But, at times like this, what was there to say?

-/-

Sometimes they saw each other at their tree, but they didn't say anything. Antonio was going to school again, but his thin smile was too difficult to watch and Lovino often found himself looking away. He wasn't the friend Antonio needed. He couldn't do anything to help.

It frustrated the hell out of him, yet he was still too scared to do anything about it. He was a coward. Once a coward, always a coward.

But he knew someone who could help. Two someones, actually.

 **Lovino** : Hey, idiots. Have you guys been talking to Antonio?

It took a while to get any sort of response, but eventually his phone buzzed.

On his desk. Where it had been untouched for so long.

Lovino got up from his bed to retrieve it and looked at the screen.

 **Francis** : Not as much as we would like.

 **Gilbert** : guy doesnt want to talk to anyone.

Lovino shut his eyes, then, opening them, walked to his window. It was raining out there, soaking the plants more than the plants probably ever wanted. Lovino wouldn't mind going out there and just sitting in it, letting his focus shift to the beads of water sliding down his face and losing himself to something trivial like the weather.

Instead, he looked at the house next door. And the red truck in the driveway. And the wooden fence in the backyard.

 **Lovino** : Try Skyping him.

 **Francis** : We've tried. He won't pick up.

 **Lovino** : Then call him!

 **Gilbert** : you dont think we've tried all that?! do something yourself! at least youre there with him!

Lovino clutched his phone, trying with all his might not to strangle and break it. Gilbert was right, of course. He should be the one helping Antonio. He was the one failing Antonio right now.

He turned away from the window and threw his phone across the room. Not hard enough to break, just with enough force to get it as far away from him as he could.

Then, he sat down and leaned against the wall under the window, listening to the downpour outside and trying to keep any frustrated screams at bay.

He settled on banging his head against his knees, both hands over his ears so he could pretend he hadn't failed at keeping the screams in.

-/-

Lovino couldn't sleep that night. That wasn't particularly anything new. He was tired and his limbs ached and he wouldn't stop yawning and, still, he knew it would be hours before the dim ceiling above him blurred into a dreamless sleep.

But, then, there was a knock on his bedroom door and Lovino sat up, turning towards it.

He looked at his clock. 3:30 AM. Surely he must have been hearing things…

Then, there it was again, accompanied by a muffled murmur on the other side.

"Lovi?"

Lovino shot out of bed and threw open his door, showing a wide-eyed, rumpled Feliciano. He looked sheepish at standing there, early morning and messy haired. No, not sheepish. Sheepish wasn't something Feliciano did, at least with his brother.

Feliciano looked vulnerable. He looked like the few thin layers he kept up for himself had been peeled back, forcibly showing everything that lied underneath.

Lovino knew this routine. It wasn't one they'd gone through in a long time.

"Can't sleep?" he asked and Feliciano nodded miserably. Lovino opened his arms and his brother shuffled into them, sniffling quietly. Lovino sighed silently, afraid that his brother would hear. Secretly, he was afraid what this bout of insomnia could mean for him.

But it was only the first one in a long, long time. One didn't mean anything. One was a fluke.

It was still very real though, which is why Lovino asked Feliciano if he wanted to stay in there tonight. They were teenagers and they hadn't slept in the same bed since they were in elementary school, but, if it helped Feliciano, then Lovino would never be too old for it.

So they settled in under thick covers and listened to the falling rain, still going hard from earlier in the day. The forecast said it would last at least another day.

Right now, though, it was sort of nice. Its steady rhythm helped put Feliciano to sleep, even if the same could not be said for Lovino.

But Lovino didn't mind. It was nothing particularly new anyway.

-/-

The seat behind Lovino in first period was occupied, yet Lovino couldn't help feeling like it was just as empty as before. No pencil tapping, no soft chuckles when someone did something absurd behind the teacher's back, no leaning forward to tell Lovino something in his ear.

Lovino's leg was still bouncing.

Antonio was pretty quiet these days. That wasn't to say he didn't talk; he did. But it was so different than the carefree way he had before. It was different than just a few weeks ago when there was always a brightness in Antonio's eyes, warmth in his smile. These days, he looked hollow, like his body knew the motions but his mind had forgotten what exactly they were so it just followed along. Like he'd forgotten why he did them in the first place.

Because Antonio wasn't happy like he'd been before.

Lovino could tell it dissuaded some people. That some of Antonio's friends just didn't know how to deal with the boy anymore - like happy, friendly, _easy_ Antonio was the only Antonio they'd ever seen and ever expected to see. And, now that that was gone, they gave up before even really trying to see more of him, to help, to just freaking be there for him like any good friend would.

Lovino didn't consider himself a particularly good friend, but he sure as hell tried a lot harder than some of these guys.

If Antonio was the shadow now, it was up to Lovino to stand in the light. If Antonio was the silence, then Lovino would be the noise. If Antonio was empty space, Lovino would stay there with him to keep away the solitude he knew Antonio hated so much.

Papers were getting passed back through the rows and Lovino absently grabbed the stack as it reached him. He separated one and twisted in his seat to pass to Antonio. In most classes he might have just passed it over his shoulder, maybe even in this class too on most occasions, but something drove him to turn–to look at Antonio.

He handed over the stack, trying to look into his friend's eyes. When Antonio looked up, his once vibrant green irises looked dull. Yet, he still tried to smile. What an idiot. What an…

Something twisted in Lovino's chest and he turned abruptly back to his desk, staring down at his worksheet. He couldn't stop this–stop averting his gaze, stop shying away. He was worse than the rest of the students who skirted around Antonio now. The look in his eyes was nothing new, his silence, his automatic, hollow smile. Lovino could not stop the feeling in his chest anytime he saw it though.

He couldn't stop. He couldn't stop.

He should do something. Say something. He wouldn't say he was worried about Antonio, but Lovino knew and everyone else did too.

When the bell rang he held his tongue. He walked side-by-side with Antonio until their next class, where they promptly sat down and faced the board. Lovino should say something.

He said nothing.

All the day through Lovino kept telling himself that. _You should say something. Say something. Damn it, say something, Lovino!_

And all the day through he said nothing. When the final bell rang, he hadn't realized how disappointed he would feel. Because his chance was up. Because he had failed.

Lovino clenched his fist under his desk and hunched his shoulders. He imagined all his frustration, morphing into a tight ball in the middle of his chest. He compacted it like Play-Doh and beat it into the tiniest possible place. Then, he unclenched and allowed it all to flow out of him, to pool down at his feet and air to occupy the place it had been.

It was a trick Antonio had taught Lovino to help with stress. His veins still felt aflame, but if it helped even just a little it was worth it. Lovino stretched his hands, feeling his skin stretch through his fingers and palms, then he looked up.

Antonio was standing beside his desk.

"To the park?" he asked and Lovino blinked up for a half a second at him like an idiot. When it processed, he nodded and grabbed his bag.

"Let's go then," he said, able to hide his utter relief that it wasn't another day Antonio went straight home.

They walked out of the building, Antonio waving half-heartedly at a couple people he knew, and took their usual route to the park by their street. It was warm out that day and Lovino savored the feeling of sun soaking into his clothes and skin. Antonio was more of a summer guy than Lovino, but after the rainy and dreary week, it was nice for a change.

Antonio seemed to think so too going by the way he reached his hand out in front of him, stretching his bare arm to soak up the sun's rays. Looking at the hand, Lovino had a sudden urge to reach out and hold it, to feel Antonio's warm hand against his, to hold onto him and never let go. Could something as simple as that be a suitable replacement for the words he could not get out?

Lovino did not take the hand. Instead, he looked up at the clear blue sky and continued on in silence. The sky was not as reassuring to Lovino as holding Antonio's hand might have been; it could not take his mind away from the questions that had been plaguing him all day. All week.

When they got to their tree, they sat down and Antonio got out a book. Lovino saw it was the one they were reading in Lit class. Usually Lovino would read books from that class out loud for them because he liked to say words that didn't come from his own head and Antonio liked to listen. It was a flip from their usual dynamic where Antonio usually did most of the talking.

Today, Antonio didn't ask Lovino to read. He just started on his own. So Lovino got out his phone and scrolled aimlessly. None of his apps had been particularly enjoyable lately, either being too much work like the games Feliciano had insisted he get, or too little work like scrolling through social media platforms.

Lovino elected on one with too little work and recognized his mistake almost immediately. These apps gave him too much leeway to think.

And those thoughts reached out to the boy laying in the grass in front of him, scanning pages in a daze, probably not taking in a single word. Lovino's heart typically swelled at Antonio's tendency to drift far away, no matter where they were. Now, he only worried where Antonio's thoughts had taken him.

 _Say something_ , a whisper told him once more. Lovino chewed on his lip and looked back at his phone, scrolling twice through the feed before looking back up. _Say something._

"Hey, Toni?" Lovino asked, coughing a little when his voice warbled from disuse. Antonio had put his book down, sprawled across his chest, and had one arm tucked behind his head. He didn't stir when Lovino called for him.

Lovino's head shifted to the side a mere fraction, considering the boy before him. He was breathing deeply and, leaning forward, Lovino could now tell that his eyes were closed.

"Oh," he sighed, slumping back against the tree and eying his friend. He wondered how much sleep Antonio had been getting lately.

Lovino picked back up his phone and looked at the time. He hadn't thought to tell Antonio before, but he was expected back home in about forty-five minutes. He was reluctant to speak with his father, but, when he was summoned, he was summoned.

He didn't know how long Antonio would be asleep for though.

 _I can just wake him up before I go. Easy enough. It doesn't matter that he's looked exhausted since he came back from California. It doesn't matter that he won't tell me about his father's funeral._

Lovino settled back down, opening his app again and scrolling through, seeing about as much as Antonio probably had from the book settled against his chest.

Lovino let Antonio sleep for over an hour.

* * *

 ** _CV: Hello, out there! New chapter, new POV! Yep, we've got Lovi's perspective for a little bit so hope you enjoy the ride :)_**

 ** _Sorry about the length of time this took to get out. Would you believe me if I told you this has been ready for editing for months? And... in the end... I really didn't do much editing (cause I'm lazy and hate it). Hope you can all forgive me and that there are still people interested in this fic. Thanks guys and I'll see you next time._**


	14. Chapter 14

_**For the guest reviewer who's still reading and anyone else still reading too :)**  
_

* * *

 _Lovino hated his times tables. If he could get rid of any one thing in the world, he'd chose it without hesitation. He hated them when they sat, blank and undone on his desk. He hated them when the teacher sent him into the hall to practice while all the other kids had free time. He hated them most when he did them at home and watched his father grade them, a look of scorn and disappointment crossing his face as he looked up to hand it back to him._

 _Lovino hated them so much that he had rather stayed inside everyday than do them. For the longest time, he'd been content with knowing he'd never get them._

 _Then, he started to do them. All because some kid was playing outside with his brother instead of him. And, oddly enough, Lovino got_ good _at times tables. Lovino got better and better until…_

 _Until he was bolting from the school bus and skipping into his house, Feliciano giggling in tow. In his hand, Lovino held a paper with the most beautiful number at the top. A huge red 92. An A! And a sticker too because his teacher was nice like that._

 _Lovino would never admit how happy that little sticker, a flower smiling and saying "Wow!," made him._

 _But the smile on his face probably gave it away anyway. Certainly Feliciano could tell._

" _Lovi! Lovi! Let me come in too!" he begged, but Lovino put up a hand._

" _Dad will want me to go in alone. Go get your homework out and I'll help you in the kitchen," Lovino said. It was routine of them to spend snack time after school together and Lovino was excited that maybe their father would spend it with them too that day, once Lovino had made him proud and happy._

 _Feliciano nodded, still smiling, and scampered off, leaving Lovino to face the intimidating door of their father's office. He looked down at his paper and bit his lip, stifling the absurd smile that crept onto his face once again. Then, he reached out and knocked._

" _Come in," the deep voice came and Lovino reached up to turn the doorknob. He stepped in to find his father, looking up from his desk, which was littered in papers, and pulling a hand through his hair. His eyebrows were knit tightly together._

" _Dad?" Lovino asked reproachfully, holding the paper tight to his chest. He felt small in such a big room, his backpack, which he had still yet to take off, felt like it was weighing him down into the floor._

" _Yes, Lovino? I'm very busy; do you need something?" his father responded, voice tired. Still, Lovino bounced on his toes and approached the desk, shoving the paper onto it._

" _I got an A!" he announced, waiting for the praise. Waiting for his father to_ smile _, to be_ proud _of him._

 _What he didn't expect was for his father to scoop up the paper and hand it back, not giving it a single glance._

" _That's nice, Lovino," he said and picked up another paper, one that he gave considerably more attention to. Without really meaning it, without looking up, he said, "Is there anything else?"_

 _But Lovino was already struck still, eyes wide and staring at that flower sticker. It was mocking him with it's smile and it's "Wow!" It felt like a lie now._

 _Lovino looked back up, watching his father who had already moved on. He was shuffling through papers. In his mind, Lovino was no longer even there._

 _Until he looked up again and noticed his son._

" _Yes, Lovino?" he asked, but Lovino was shaking his head. He turned and left the room. When he shut the door behind him, Lovino looked down at the paper again, empty._

 _Then an anger coursed through him and hot, burning tears streaked down his cheeks. He balled the paper up, never wanting to see it again. A 92. Not enough. A 92 wasn't enough._

" _Lovino?" a softer voice called for him and Lovino looked up to find his brother. Feliciano had been waiting for him._

 _Lovino quickly swiped at his tears and shook his head. The concern on his brother's face was too much. Feliciano wasn't even six yet! What did he know?_

 _He shouldn't be concerned. Feliciano shouldn't have to worry about his older brother. It was up to Lovino to take care of_ him _, not the other way around! Lovino helped with Feliciano's homework and his nightmares and took care of him after school when their dad was too busy!_

 _Lovino didn't want his little brother to see him cry. So he ran past him and up the stairs. He ran until he shut the door behind him and could handle his stupid tears and his stupid gasping breath and his stupid_ stupid _92 by himself._

" _A 92 isn't enough," Lovino gasped, fingers curling on his cheeks and messing with his puffy eyes._

" _Not enough…"_

-/-

When Lovino got his grade back, his heart sunk so far he thought a black hole had opened up in his chest.

81%

He didn't remember the last time he had made a grade like that and he was feeling nauseous all of a sudden.

 _It isn't bad_ , he interrupted his panic, trying desperately to remind himself. _An 81 isn't bad at all. An 81 is a B and a B-student is still a good student._

Still, a part of him despaired. He couldn't get that grade off his desk quick enough–a stupid English paper from a harsh teacher. He hadn't had her long enough for her to be surprised at the shoddy work, but Lovino couldn't help but feel her disappointment and the imaginary stares from around the room.

He snatched the paper off his desk and stuffed it in his bookbag, heart thumping louder and louder in his ears.

Lovino couldn't even consider what his father would say about this.

Was he really not a good student at all? Antonio and Feliciano always used to tell him that what he did wasn't healthy–all the studying and studying and studying–but was that the only way to make the grades he needed?

Lately, he'd felt a whole lot worse than he ever had when his study habits took up most of his time. It was like his whole world was tilting off balance. His feet couldn't stay on the floor; he couldn't hold on and had to handle being tossed about, confused and disoriented. Like the moving floors of a funhouse. Lovino had always hated funhouses.

As the class period sped by, uneventfully as Lovino had neither Antonio nor the idiot's absent cheer to focus on, Lovino tried to keep his mind off of the grade. After he'd escaped to the bustling hallways, Lovino made a beeline for his locker and practically shoved his head inside to get away from it all.

Something below his skin was bubbling sickeningly. His head was full of cotton balls, in a strange numbingly anxious way, like his anxiety was bringing the entire world to a stop around him. His breath was eerily steady, a contrast to how choking it felt in his throat.

He stared at the blank grey metal of the back of his locker, probably looking like a lunatic ostrich with his head in the wall, but everything was so much, too much, and he'd had to get away.

He pushed it back back back, to the back of his mind. Yellow tape and locks and bolts barred it from entering his waking thoughts. He assured himself he would deal with it later.

Lovino had only been in his pseudo solitude for a moment when a voice chirruped behind him, causing him to slam the locker door to his skull enough to make it vibrate. "Hey, Lovi!"

Clutching the back of his head, Lovino spun around, forgetting his grade and the nauseous feeling and the cotton in his skull.

His eyes lit as they came to rest on his brother. "Damn it, Feliciano! What have I told you about sneaking up on me? What if I had punched you in the face, huh? And where would you be then?"

"I'm sorry, fratello! Please don't punch me in the face! I like my face and I think punching would kind of hurt, don't you think?"

"Well, then watch it when you sneak up on people! If you weren't my brother you'd have a black eye and…" Lovino went on, throwing his hands up as Feliciano spoke in his own rapidfire way, either brother only listening to the other enough to reply in somewhat semblance of a conversation.

This bickering, if you could really call it that from Feliciano's side, was pretty normal for the two to communicate. It was unspoken between them that Feliciano's fear and Lovino's scorn were neither true, but it did get them odd looks wherever they went. Though that certainly wasn't why they did it.

The people that passed them in the halls gave them those strange looks too, but many of them didn't pay any mind. This was a regular occurrence, after all, to those who had been at the school for longer.

Finally, the two seemed to calm down and Lovino turned back to his locker, pretending to scoff. He could feel Feliciano's smile radiating into the back of his skull, like an annoyingly persistent sunbeam. Or maybe that was still the bruise where he'd hit it on the locker…

"What is it, Feliciano?" he huffed and started to unpack books from his bag. The air had seemed to sag around him, leaving Lovino a bit drained, but more grounded than he'd been before. Their bickering had taken up a good portion of the class change, though, and Lovino would certainly have to hurry to get to class on time. The things he did for his brother…

"Oh! Well, I was going to tell you about a study group I'm going to afterschool and thought maybe you'd want to come! It'd be a whole lot more fun to study with others, don't you think? And it's a great way to make friends!"

Lovino swung his locker shut and turned to his brother. "No thanks," he said indifferently and started his way up the hall.

"Aw, but Lovi!" Feliciano whined as he scampered after. Lovino rolled his eyes and hefted his backpack higher up his shoulder.

"No, Feliciano. I'm not interested in having to tutor a bunch of idiots who probably-" Lovino said, a frown working his face when the bong of the late bell sounded, followed closely by a loud yelp.

Lovino immediately spun around, knowing exactly where the sound had come from. If some fucker thought it was okay to pick on his brother–with _him_ around-

But, no. No one was there behind him but Feliciano. Still, his brother had been the one to make that noise and he obviously looked alarmed.

Lovino's eyebrows drew together in concern and he stepped closer to his brother. "What's wrong?"

Then, Feliciano's eyes grew larger as he seemed to remember himself, pasting on a smile and visibly calming himself. He laughed dryly and waved Lovino off. "Oh, sorry! Nothing's wrong. Um, we should probably get to class though," Feliciano said and he started to step back. Lovino took another step towards him.

"Feli-" he started, but Feliciano was acting jumpier than usual and shook his head insistently.

"I've got to go, fratello!" he exclaimed, perhaps a little too loud. "Bye! See you at home!"

Then, without any chance for Lovino to ask again, Feliciano zipped down the hall in the opposite direction and disappeared. Lovino watched the space he had gone for a while, wondering what the hell was up with his brother.

He was certainly acting strange, jumpy. Why the heck had he yelped? It was louder than the school bell-

Lovino narrowed his eyes.

But, before he could dwell too long on it, a voice of a teacher roused him, threatening detention if he didn't get to class, so he took off and left the incident to think on later.

-/-

At the end of last period again, Antonio invited him to their tree and so they went. It was another silent day between them, but Antonio didn't seem as worn down as last time. Just quieter. Contemplative.

They sat against the trunk of the tree and connected on Mario Kart on DS. Since it was Antonio's game and Lovino didn't have it too, he ended up being one of the default guys, but, for once, he didn't complain. Things were too quiet between them and, though Antonio seemed stronger than when he'd initially returned from California, he still wasn't himself. Things still felt far too fragile between them.

They had just completed Waluigi's damn pinball course when Antonio spoke, adjusting his windbreaker against the slight autumn breeze and sighing in a way Antonio never had before those past couple of weeks.

"You never talked about your mom after you visited her," he said and nothing he could have said would have taken Lovino more off guard.

And so, smartly, Lovino replied, "What?" eyes going wide as he stared in bafflement at his friend.

But Antonio shrugged like what he had said wasn't completely weird. "I was just wondering if you got to know her. If she was nice."

Lovino looked long and hard at his friend, but Antonio didn't look up. He was going through the different circuits on his DS, trying to decide which to do next. He probably wasn't even looking at them, though. Just giving his hands something to do and eyes somewhere to be.

"I guess," Lovino answered and tried to sound indifferent. If this was what Antonio wanted to talk about, then Lovino would oblige. "Feli was really excited, but when isn't he?"

At that, Antonio cracked a half smile and Lovino was surprised the relief that flooded his system at even just that. "Feli liked her?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Feliciano likes everyone."

"I would like to see the exception," Antonio mused and set down his DS, stretching out. "But, what about you?"

Lovino went silent for a second, wondering what to say… wondering what he _could_ say. How could he possibly say a thing against his mother when one of Antonio's own parents had just…

Lovino shrugged. "She was okay."

"Okay?" Antonio asked curiously. "Aren't you glad you got to meet her?"

Lovino looked away and chewed on his lip. Fuck. Did they really have to talk about this?

When Lovino took too long to answer, Antonio spoke up again. "I'm not going to lie," he said and sat back to look at the sky. "I ask because I've been thinking a lot about my dad lately."

That seemed kind of obvious, but like hell Lovino was going to say anything.

"I didn't see him much. And, it's not like we didn't get along, but… now that he's gone I feel like I didn't know him at all," Antonio said. "He was a workaholic and him and my mom used to fight all the time. He collected CDs and was probably way too lenient with me at times. He liked watching baseball with me and the last time I saw him-" Antonio paused; the air vibrated with tension. "The last time I saw him he gave me a heart attack and said he'd see me at Christmas." Antonio laughed then. "Those two not actually being related."

Antonio paused, maybe so Lovino could take that all in, maybe so he himself could. He squinted up at the blue sky, the lumpy clouds.

"I thought I knew my dad," he then said, quieter this time. "And, still, I can't connect that with the man who got shot for standing up against some mugger in the street. In defense of some woman he didn't even know."

Antonio set down his DS beside him in the grass and pulled in his legs, tucking his chin against them. He looked out, and Lovino followed his gaze, to the park dotted with a guy walking his dog and a couple playing frisbee. He heard Antonio sighed.

"It's funny. I know he wasn't a _bad_ guy, but he was also the guy who picked work over his family. How the heck can someone like that choose a random person over his life?" Antonio asked, sounding lost. "My dad was never… a _hero_."

"But maybe he was." Antonio continued after a moment and Lovino looked back over at him. Antonio glanced at the movement before going back to watching the frisbee guys. "When I think about it, there were plenty of things my dad could have been and I wouldn't have even known. And it's not because I didn't see him much either. I guess it's really because I didn't try to see past the man I had already made him out to be. A good man but not _great_. A good dad, but…" Antonio swallowed, and finished with a whispered, "Yeah."

Lovino didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. Instead, he thought.

 _If I never met my mom and she died, would I have regretted it too? If she died_ now _would I regret not trying when I did meet her?_

Because, yeah, he hadn't tried when he'd met her. He'd left it up to Feliciano, the one that really had wanted to be there and sat back, watching it happen. He had been there for his brother, to support him and protect him.

The few times they'd seen their mother while in Oregon had amounted to nothing for Lovino and he had been content with that. He had never wanted more than what he'd had with his mother anyway.

But now he was wondering.

Who really was the woman he had met? Who'd abandoned her children and moved cross country away from them? Was she kind? Was she funny? Would she even _like_ Lovino?

She had tried, in the phone calls and the days they'd met up, but Lovino had been more than uninterested at the time, so he really couldn't say. He remembered Feliciano talking about him during one of their conversations, about how he was lining up to be valedictorian already.

Maybe she would be… _proud_ of Lovino?

The very idea made Lovino freeze, his insides battling between hot and cold, a hope and a readying disappointment.

 _81%_

No, she wouldn't have been- _couldn't_ have.

Lovino snapped out of it at the sound of Antonio clearing his throat, a sniffle letting him know his friend was quickly trying to piece himself back together. Lovino wanted to reach out, but his body was tense.

He pushed it all to the back of his mind, squishing it in behind the yellow tape for later.

"Anyway," Antonio said, reaching for his DS, "Next circuit?"

Lovino nodded mutely and gathered his own device.

-/-

Lovino decided to make spaghetti for dinner, Feliciano's favorite. Not for Feliciano, of course. Lovino just felt like having spaghetti, and if it aligned with Feli's monthly therapy appointment, then so be it.

Lovino was the best cook in their family and he knew it. Feliciano was good too and, though Lovino would never admit it, his brother's lasagna was a lot better than his own, but he was also messy and Lovino would always be left to wipe the red sauced counters up. Because of this, and the fact that their father was busy (and a horrible cook) Lovino did most of the cooking in the Vargas household.

Sometimes, it got boring to him, to be honest. He was no cook, even if he was damn good at it. Putting ingredients together and testing recipes took up time, time that Lovino had plenty of these days it felt, but it wasn't something he was passionate about. With all this stupid time he had, like now, cooking sauce that needed barely a thought at his spoon, Lovino thought a lot about that. What _was_ he passionate about?

Lovino couldn't remember a time he'd focused on something so intently as he did on papers and assignments and tests. Maybe a doodle every now and again… maybe his toy cars when he had been _eight_ … but now?

He wanted to do his best to impress his father, to reach that future he was always going on about, achieve his dreams. But, somewhere along the way, Lovino had ceased having dreams. Lovino couldn't think of a day past his present.

All this focus on his grades had been to ensure a brighter future. All that energy and time into studying was to get into a good college, get scholarships, breach into the world of the better will succeed, survival of the fittest.

But he couldn't envision what that future held. And that- that scared him a bit. It wasn't that he didn't want a future, no. He wanted to reach for something, strive for the things that mattered to him. It was just that… he couldn't even begin to fathom what those things might be.

Lovino had stopped stirring the sauce, looking down into the bubbly red goop with its chunks of tomato and flakes of green seasoning. He couldn't see it, eyes unfocused and far off; not until the front door burst open and Lovino startled.

His arm twitched, sending a blob onto the counter and he cursed. "Damn it, Feliciano!"

And, sure enough, Feliciano bounded into the kitchen. "Oooo, is that spaghetti?"

"It might be, but you won't be getting any if it all gets flung onto the counter!" Lovino scolded and Feliciano smiled without remorse. Instead, he leaped over and hung his arms off his brother.

"Oh, thank you thank you, Lovi!" he cheered. "You are the nicest brother ever!"

"Yeah yeah," Lovino grumbled, but he smirked ever so slightly. When Feliciano pulled away he disguised it with a scowl, one that Feliciano obviously saw straight through. It was always like that, but Lovino never dropped it and Feliciano never said anything. "How was it?" Lovino asked in order to brush off Feliciano's warm stare and turned back to the stove, mopping up the sauce with a rag that was sure to stain.

Lovino didn't have to be looking at his brother to feel the energy of the room drop. From the corner of his eye, Lovino saw him slide onto one of the barstools so he could lean across the counter and talk. His brother was noticeably subdued but, like Feliciano did for him, Lovino did not let up that he could see.

It had taken a while for Lovino to wrestle with his first instinct, to demand who or what had made his brother sad and he would tear them to shreds, and, after that, to tame the frown that always appeared either way. Nonchalance wasn't easy for Lovino.

"I'm going back next week," Feliciano said and Lovino felt the beginnings of that frown before he controlled it again. Control wasn't his forte either.

"Something wrong?" he asked and, damn it, he had an edge to his voice. His brother quickly shook his head.

"No no! Just an extra session, you know?" Feliciano said nervously and Lovino suppressed the urge to sigh. He nodded.

Sometimes, Feliciano would have a rougher time than usual. Lovino knew that, knew it by the way Feliciano had jumped at the school bell yesterday, or when he'd come to Lovino's room when he couldn't sleep. It wasn't unusual for it to happen at times, and it wasn't unusual for Feli's therapist to suggest an extra session when it did, but Lovino still couldn't help but worry.

"Okay," Lovino said, keeping his eyes on the mess as he finished, biting down the stiffness of his voice. He picked up the rag and threw it to the corner of the counter to get later, looking up at Feliciano where he was perched, watching him in worry.

Feliciano really shouldn't have been the one worried here. The idiot worried that Lovino would be worried, like an absurd circle of neverending worry, but, if he really was going through a patch, he would be worried about plenty else as it was.

So Lovino shrugged, quieting down the rising tension in his gut. "Tell me if I can help." His body language was deliberately casual, but his eyes told another story, one that Feliciano got every time. Lovino wasn't good with subtly but he tried for Feliciano and it seemed to mean a lot to the boy. Feli smiled.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Thanks, Lovino."

Lovino nodded, letting the pent up energy inside him take its course and settle down. He wanted it to leave leave leave- but he could only shove it to the back of his mind, let it mush together where things had been building up for days. It had lasted this long, it could for a little while longer.

He focused on stirring the pasta, lifting the spoon to pick at a noodle. "Hmm…" he hummed, examining it. Feliciano leaned forward, eyes sparkling.

"Is it ready?" he asked, eager. Lovino smirked a devious little smirk and threw the noodle at his brother's face. It stuck to his cheek.

"Seems to be so," he said and Feliciano squinted, trying to see it, before bursting into laughter.

"Fratello! Don't be so mean!" he giggled and peeled the piece off his face to eat. Lovino shrugged and went to turn off the stove.

"You asked," Lovino replied easily, but his brother was already moving on, jumping up from his stool.

"I'll get the plates!"

It was nice to see his brother's worry slip off so easily. It was a lot rarer than most would think.

-/-

It was later that week that Lovino laid in bed, world around him still.

He watched the window and the daylight it let through its closed blinds, school clothes still on his back, shoes still on his feet, backpack dangling from his hand to the floor. Things around him were horribly still. He was horribly still. The stillness did not strike him like glass, though–fragile, clear. Instead, it was strong and overbearing. Nothing could break the stillness around him.

Until something did.

"Lovi, I'm going to study group again! Are you _sure_ you don't wanna come with?"

Feliciano's voice reached through the door and, by the sound of it, down the hall. He must have been on his way out, standing by the railing on his way down to call to Lovino's bedroom. The bedroom still weighed heavy in all its still, but the noise helped Lovino's grappling, eerily calm mind from caving in on itself.

Lovino found his voice and turned his brother down. It was a surprise he'd found the energy to project, but better that than get up or, worse yet, make his brother come to him.

He felt his brother's absence like an added weight. An empty house engulfed everything in quiet, in motionlessness. Lovino tried to search for the tiny things, always with sound, light, motion, some sort of electronic or something, but it was as if time had frozen, leaving Lovino forever in a world without its progression.

What a lonely life that must be; to be stuck where no one else can move, talk, do anything, really. Like moving about in a dream where no one is quite… right. Except, even then, you might have the illusion that at least they were there.

Why was Lovino like this all of a sudden, he wondered. Things had been going well that week–a lot better than before. Antonio and him were meeting up again at their tree and his best friend would sometimes open up. Antonio had become a lot more open again since their last conversation there. And Feliciano too–no more nightmares, he was less jumpy and anxious, it seemed whatever that therapist talked with him about in their extra session really worked.

Things weren't perfect, but they were getting better and, hell, that felt like the beginnings of sun after a season of rain.

So why was Lovino doing this _now_?

The yellow taped thoughts were catching up, building up, pushing back. They wanted out, to plague his mind and roam free in the sky of his mind, birds flown out of a cage. Lovino still wasn't ready to deal with them.

 _Not enough_ , a little voice echoed in his mind nonetheless and it didn't echo with the sentiment of an unsatisfactory grade alone.

He wasn't enough for his father. Wouldn't be for his mother. For his brother. For his best friend. He couldn't help Antonio with what he was dealing with, or Feliciano with his.

Yet, Lovino couldn't pin that down as his problem, or any of them that threatened to flood from their yellow tape. Lovino couldn't figure out anything that weighed him down, though that must have been a part of it, right?

Right?

Lovino closed his eyes to try to focus, but it didn't work. His eyes crept back open to look around, lost. His mind buzzed about, static and motion and white noise.

He let go of his backpack strap, remembering it at last. With this, he remembered the discomfort of his clothes and shoes, but let them be. Better just stay where he was.

If he could, he would welcome sleep. It was still too early and he didn't feel particularly tired, but if it could get him away from this unreal reality then…

He would not try for sleep though. If he were to try, then he would only frustrate himself–perhaps make everything worse. It was better now to just stay as still as possible, give in to the stillness all around him.

Perhaps this was what people experienced when they meditated. If so, Lovino couldn't find the appeal. It was suffocating like this, oppressive. His mind did not feel free, or open; just jailed into a claustrophobic cage.

Meditation was supposed to open the mind, right? This couldn't be that. This had to be the opposite maybe. Something really close, but gone completely wrong.

An old memory flashed through his mind, made him cringe and want to curl up and clutch something tight. Dismissal. Disappointment. Not enough.

Had his father even been listening that afternoon? Had he realized how proud Lovino had been of himself–how skewed he now thought where a 92 wasn't good enough; where an 81 was the end of the world?

Had he ever considered that not hounding his son to study every minute of the day was what a real parent would do? To let him play with friends instead of keeping him inside for almost an entire summer doing schoolwork when school wasn't in session? Had he ever thought to listen when Lovino prattled on about stupid little kid things because he was a kid? Or listen when he was proud of a spelling test?

Lovino's heart beat a single thump in his ear, the lone motion to accompany his perplexing still. It sounded like the ticks of a clock, counting away wasted time.

 _Dad, did you ever hear me at all?_

Lovino squeezed his eyes tight, wrapping his thoughts tighter and tighter in that yellow tape, until they could not move, could not wave for his attention.

Lovino wasn't ready yet. It would have to wait.

-/-

Lovino must have fallen asleep because, when he woke up to the dull hum of his phone in his pocket, another note of discomfort other than sleeping in jeans and tennis shoes, he had jolted awake.

The room was darker, but not night. If he had to guess, sunset was probably soon. The stillness was no longer about, instead replaced by a grogginess that Lovino attempted to wipe away with the sleepies (as Feliciano called them) from his eyes. He was tangled in blankets somehow, though he couldn't imagine having moved from where he'd been lying.

It wasn't a surprise, he supposed, that his sleep had been somewhat restless.

Digging out his phone, Lovino looked at the screen then looked away. He couldn't read a word with his vision so foggy, so he blinked and shook his head before coming back to try again.

Then, his eyes widened.

"Dad?" he said to the phone, as if it could confirm before he'd even picked it up. Then, he answered in a flash. This couldn't have been good. Even the worst of his dad's scolding always waited until he was home.

When his father's deep and steady voice spoke through the line, it felt as though it drifted into his ear, jostled about his brain, assaulting and screaming and wrecking. Lovino felt the thoughts wiggling around in their tape.

Lovino could only hum his affirmative, too stunned to even consider forming words. He noticed he was shaking long after his father hung up, the line dead, while Lovino would have to wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Wait-

Thoughts gnashed at the tape with their teeth, ripped at it with claws, tore it to shreds, tiny tiny pieces-

He couldn't push them away any longer, lock them up or ignore them.

And, suddenly, Lovino couldn't breathe.

* * *

 ** _CV: These boys can't catch a break... and keep getting bad news over the phone. Thanks for reading guys; until next time_**


	15. Chapter 15

**_Warnings: panic attacks (skip from "He couldn't breathe." to "Better?" & stop at "Then, Lovino was alone in his room."), brief hospital visit, slight trauma, severe anxiety_**

* * *

Lovino knew enough about panic attacks to know that it would feel like the end of the world, but it _wasn't_. But knowing and feeling were on horribly different sides of the spectrum when he was experiencing one firsthand.

It had been a while since he'd had one, but not even those had been his first experience with panic attacks. Feliciano used to have them when he was very little, before he started going to therapy and learning ways to manage his anxiety. He was pretty good at managing his fears now that he had guidance, but, back in those days, it had been just frightening to watch.

Lovino, for the longest time, hadn't known how to help his baby brother. They had started around when Feliciano was four and Lovino was five. At five, Lovino had really had no idea, but he'd learned quicker than others at that age. During, what felt like, the excruciatingly long time he hadn't known what to do, though, he had never felt so helpless.

If Feliciano had felt like his world was ending, then Lovino wasn't sure what to call the experience watching it all. He, too, felt like the world was ending around him. All he had wanted to do was help, soothe his brother's fear, tell him that things really weren't as scary as he thought.

Lovino had often just wanted to lift that burden from his brother's shoulders and take it on himself. He could be strong, strong enough to fight a panic attack, right?

He hadn't experienced one himself until years after and, when he had, he had gained a whole new respect for his little brother. Already, he had known Feliciano was strong by dealing with them for so long, but never had Lovino known how impressive it was just how he could fight against them, survive them, manage them. Lovino never wanted to experience one again in all his life.

But life does not cater to the individual's wishes. Anxiety ran in the family, they came to see, though his and Feliciano's differed quite a bit.

Feliciano had severe GAD, General Anxiety Disorder. Some called it Panphobia, because he was basically afraid of everything, but psychologists preferred calling it a particularly strong case of GAD. Feliciano, he had told Lovino once, didn't much care what they _called_ it, if they could just do something about it.

Lovino would never forget the day his little brother had said that to him, after coming home from yet another therapy appointment. In those days, he was going multiple times a week and he was tired and jumpy all the time. The anxiety really took it out of his energetic brother. Exhaustion didn't fit Feliciano at all and he seemed almost defeated at that age, like the world was on his very small shoulders, before he'd even gotten to elementary school.

Preschool had been the catalyst. It had been too much all at once for him.

Feliciano's anxiety was severe, severe enough that it had once been debilitating. He'd once taken medication for it, gone to multiple psychologists and therapists and doctors. It took years of conditioning, deconditioning, easing and facing fears, for Feliciano to get to the level where he was now. Eventually, miraculously, all that nervous energy had morphed into enthusiasm and extroversion, enough to convince most people that there wasn't a constant battle going on in his head, even today.

Anxiety ran in the family, but Lovino knew he could never compare to the struggle his brother had. No amount of cotton-stuffed head, yellow-taped thoughts, crawling skin, hair pulling, tear pooling, erratic breathing, that he experienced could contest. And Lovino didn't want to contest. His brother deserved the attention for his problems. He had real problems. Lovino was just magnifying his own. He wasn't so bad he needed medication, therapy, attention.

Lovino had never told anyone but Antonio the extent of his own anxiety. He couldn't bother his brother and certainly not his father. Lovino didn't have _real_ problems anyway.

Feliciano didn't know Lovino had had panic attacks before. Their father didn't know either. So, when lights flashed across Lovino's room, a streak racing across the ceiling from the driveway below, Lovino didn't know what to do.

He couldn't breathe. He was counting, just like Antonio had told him to do, like he did for Feliciano, but he couldn't control it. In fact, it only flew more out of control once his father got home, the light across the walls dimming as his father's car drew closer to the house, and the sound of the car door slamming as someone raced inside.

He must have left the car running. They would have to jump right in to get to the hospital anyway.

The hospital…

Lovino's breathing came out quicker. No no no, he begged with himself as imaginary rocks tumbled around him, caving him in. _Get yourself together. We have to go!_

But- _breathe_ \- Lovino- _breathe_ \- could not- _breathe_ -

"Lovino?" a voice came from the doorway and Lovino would have jumped if he could. When had his father gotten there? Wait Wait- he wasn't allowed to see him like-

Immediately, his father was at his side. "Hand on my chest, son," he commanded, but Lovino didn't know if he could move. Feliciano would have managed to do it, but Lovino didn't know-

Lovino's hand was on his father's chest and the man was breathing deep. _In. Out. In.. Out.. In… Out…_

Lovino wasn't sure how he had gotten his hand up, but he thought it had to do with the fact that his dad's own was the only thing keeping it in place. Either way, Lovino desperately focused on synching their breaths, pacing and slowing down his own. He sputtered and hiccuped a bit, and at one point he almost gave up, thinking _how can anyone do this I'm going to die I'm going to-_

Eventually, though, Lovino was slowing down. The dark room was coming into focus, an eerily clear focus, as if Lovino had cat eyes. Then he was looking into his father's grim face.

"Better?" he asked and Lovino swallowed. He had seen. Lovino almost went straight into a relapse at the thought.

"We-" Lovino said, but he sounded a little short on breath. It scared him momentarily before he cleared his throat, talking a bit quieter, but stronger. "We should get to the hospital."

"Wait on a second, Lovino," his father said, commanded. Lovino stilled. "We need to make sure you're okay first. Feliciano can wait; I don't want two sons out of commission."

At the mention, Lovino's blood went cold. Feliciano was okay; he had to be. His father had said so on the phone–no severe damage. Just in for examination.

Feliciano had been in a car wreck. There had been no physical damage, but Lovino would believe it when he saw it. He wanted to get to the hospital now.

"I'm fine," Lovino said, shaking his head. His father gave him a Look, which Lovino returned defiantly, similar to the many he had given when reprimanded for low grades in the past. This one, though, was desperate and far more challenging. It wasn't grades on the line right then, but his brother.

His dad nodded his head and stood, offering a hand. Lovino took it, ignoring the way his father scrutinized him like he was going to choose _now_ to be a concerned parent.

Lovino didn't look at him the entire way to the hospital, choosing to watch the street lamps and lights from the other vehicles out the passenger side window.

-/-

When they got to the hospital, Feliciano was already in the waiting room, a bandage on his arm and a worried look on his face. Lovino immediately went to him and, once Feli caught sight of him, relief spread across his face. Feliciano probably would have hugged him to death if Lovino hadn't stalked right up to him and pulled him into his arms first.

He held his brother securely, as much to assure him that Lovino was there as to assure himself Feliciano was. When he pulled back, Lovino looked him up and down once more and found that his father had been right. The only sign of the wreck anywhere on him was that bandage and the tear tracks on his cheeks.

"Kiku hit his head pretty bad," Feliciano said from where he was arms length away, sniffling pathetically. "They said he'll be alright, but he might have a concussion."

From there, their dad was stepping forward and brought his youngest into a hug before pulling back. "I'm going to check you out. Lovino, take your brother to the car."

And off the man went to the front desk, all business and strict focus. Lovino sighed but turned his focus back to his brother. "Let's go."

That night, Feliciano couldn't sleep, but neither could Lovino, so they sat awake and watched a movie on Lovino's laptop, buried in pillows and blankets on Lovino's bed.

It was obvious enough that the accident had shaken him up quite a bit, so, as strict as a man as he was, their father let Feliciano skip a day of school and scheduled an extra appointment that month. It would be Feliciano's third trip to his therapist in the past two weeks, more than he'd had in a long time. It made Lovino nervous.

The next day at school, Lovino was bombarded with questions about his brother. If he was okay, was he hurt, why wasn't he at school- It reminded Lovino an awful lot like when they'd all been asking about Antonio. Somehow, Lovino had become the go-to guy for school gossip by proximity and he didn't have the patience for it.

Lovino tried to give short answers, tried to ignore the whispers and looks, tried to keep his calm because he was seriously already worried enough as it was. When Antonio asked about Feli, it almost felt like he'd fallen into another world.

He and Antonio, they'd been hanging out at their tree a lot more often, but talking was still stilted and awkward. It was as if the death of his father had erased all the years of friendship between them, and Antonio's core personality along with it. The easiest way Lovino could describe his friend now was _blank_. Like a page that had once had strong, broad pencil strokes, thoroughly embedded into the paper, only to have, somehow, come up clean under a simple eraser. The paper was blank, impossibly so.

But Lovino should have known Antonio would never not worry about Feliciano, especially under the circumstances. They had known each other as long, technically longer, as Antonio and Lovino themselves.

Still, Lovino could not bring himself to answer any more thoroughly to his best friend. Because, if he said anything more than "Feliciano's alright" then he wasn't sure he could believe himself.

The dread of what could come, after Feliciano's anxiety, which had already been spiking again more than usual, after the shock of a car crash and realizing the mortality of his and the lives around him, Lovino couldn't, in confidence, believe his brother was alright. And, if he said it to Antonio, it would only lay bare how blatant a lie it really was.

So Lovino averted his gaze after Antonio asked him, his throat closing up. Not long after, class began, but it wasn't soon enough to cover up the fact that he'd ignored Antonio. He watched Antonio turned back to the front with a frown and it only made Lovino's heart sink further into his stomach.

The next day, Feliciano refused to go to school.

"One more day," he'd pleaded with Lovino when he'd tried to wake him up, thinking his brother must have slept through his alarm with how late he'd been staying up recently. Instead, he'd found his brother wide awake. "Just one more day, Lovi. I'm not ready."

Lovino was soft on his brother. He promised he wouldn't tell their father.

And he went through another awkward day at school, concerned glances from classmates and Antonio alike.

The day after that, Feliciano had been shaking as he fumbled through his drawer, trying to find a sock pair. Lovino had sighed, already having known his decision the moment he'd walked in that morning.

It was Friday. Feliciano would see his therapist that afternoon, so, surely, one more day, at the end of the week no less, wouldn't hurt.

This time, Lovino stayed home with his brother and they watched movies all day. When it was time for Feliciano's appointment, he'd shaken just as bad as that morning, but Lovino was less lenient this time. He made sure they were ready when their father got home to drive them.

Usually, Feliciano walked, as the office wasn't very far, but things were a bit different that week. Lovino and their dad sat awkwardly outside the office that day and waited for him. All the while, Lovino was hoping their presence was more supportive than oppressive for his brother.

Waiting outside that office was horrible. It was in a regular old office building, surrounding by doctors and lawyers and whoever else rented there and there were a handful of stiff chairs out in the hallway that his dad and him sat in, side by side. As they sat and waited and counted the time, Lovino was beginning to regret not taking the chair one further down, but the silence stretched on.

He did not talk to his father, nor did the man make any attempt at conversation with him. In fact, his father had brought work to do while they waited. Lovino hadn't brought anything but his phone, which he pretended to click around on.

Finally, he decided on Solitaire. Then, on about the hundreth game, the silence of the hallway was effectively killing him.

Maybe he should have brought some schoolwork to do. It would cut down on his homework when he got home and, though his father didn't spare him so much as a glance, Lovino could feel the pressure from sheer proximity. It was as if his father emitted disappointment like radio waves, a signal saying "you need to use your time more wisely, son." It made Lovino's skin prickle, wanting to reach for a textbook that wasn't there, but it made his mind indignant, and lit the fire in there that wanted to rebel.

But, like said, the silence was starting to get to him. In a desperate attempt to get away from the compounding pressure in his head that directed him compass-North, Study Way, he instead focused his energy on worrying about his brother. He wondered what Feliciano and his therapist might talk about in there.

Most likely, Feliciano's week, how things were going, general things before the inevitable: the car accident. They'd talk about what happened first.

Feliciano had been coming home from his study group, a couple of his friends carpooling from the library. Meanwhile, Lovino had been napping in his room. He might have been there too, he pondered, if he hadn't been so adament about not studying, about proving his father wrong.

If Lovino had been there, could things have gone differently? Maybe he could have warned the driver of the oncoming car, preventing this scare that had shocked his brother back years in anxiety control.

Maybe, if he had gotten his head out of his ass for just a moment, Lovino could have helped his brother. If he had been there, things could have been so different- he could have helped-

But Lovino was selfish, caught up in his own world. If he hadn't been so focused on not studying, if he had only done as his father expected of him, if he'd only gone to that stupid study session and stressed out of his mind for the upcoming exam season, then none of this would have happened.

Lovino knew he was being stupid, knew 'what ifs' never got anyone anywhere, but he could not shake the feeling of blame, pointing his finger right back at himself. It was all his fault.

He was supposed to protect his brother, yet all he'd amounted to lately was some useless guy who lazed around all day, resisting the strongest part of his nature in order to prove a point.

Lovino hated that. Hated that his anxieties, his perfectionism, the part that strove to be noticed by the one man who'd ruined him, was the strongest part of his nature.

Lovino wasn't sure for how much longer he could sit out there with nothing but his father and thoughts crowding his space, not to mention eyes glued to this god awful game of Solitaire. Shortly after, by some miracle, Feliciano emerged.

He would have another appointment next week. It seemed, for now, this would become a weekly thing again.

That night, neither of them slept again until exhaustion forced them to pass out close to morning. They slept the day away tucked in Feliciano's bed, TV glowing and sun obstructed by his heavy drapes.

Throughout the weekend, Feliciano managed to relax. Come Monday morning, Lovino was able to convince him to try a day at school.

He made it past first period, at least, before he was in the nurse's office and texting Lovino that he was going home. It took until the end of the week, but finally Feliciano made it a whole day. Nothing could hold down his brother for too long, as much as his nervous disposition told otherwise.

Still, though Feliciano was making it through the day, it didn't mean he did so easily. He'd vomited in the bathroom twice that week from nerves and had gone to the nurse at least once a day, either from nausea, migraines, or the sheer overwhelming atmosphere of being in an overcrowded classroom or hallway.

They continued to stay up into the night, causing both of their schedules to crack.

The worst part, though, was sitting there. Lovino had to sit there and watch it all out, unable to truly _help_ his brother through any of it. He did his best, stayed up with him, accompanied him when Lovino could at school and walked Feliciano home, but, the thing was, all he could really do was be there for his brother. Lovino was simply another body to take up space, give a silent comfort that he had never been very good at providing, while his brother battled out his demons on his own.

All Lovino could do was stand on the sidelines and worry. And he could never be certain if his constant vigilance, his hovering, was helping or harming.

During Feliciano's appointment the following week, Lovino decided to give him space. Again, their father had gone with, but Lovino decided to stay back.

One moment alone in his room, in the empty house, was enough to shock him into a discomfort he'd forgotten existed. He was suddenly thrown back to the night Feliciano had had his accident, before the news had ever even reached him. That numbness pervaded the air in a familiar feeling. The house became still, his brain filling with cotton.

Lovino bolted out of that house. He would not be alone there. Perhaps anywhere else, but not there.

So he ambled around for a while, mapping the sidewalks of town until he came to a shopping mall, a gas station, another neighborhood. He was doing circles, not consciously thinking of where he was going. He paced around that other neighborhood for a while and, once he'd left, he continued just as he had before.

He stared at the clouds as he walked, the trees, passing cars and the occasional person. He looked at street signs and tried to follow their meaning, thoughts slipping in and out of his head without an attempt to grasp them.

It wasn't until he came to the park that Lovino stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn't meant to go there, but old habits die hard, he guessed.

He hoped Antonio was there, but he never was as often as Lovino anyway, in all the years they'd met there. Either way, he hoped the tree would provide its usual comfort.

When he stepped up to the tree, Antonio was not there and Lovino sighed away the small hope he'd been burning away in his chest.

Unbidden, his mind was drawn to the day they had sat there together, before everything had gone to hell. When the sun had been out, they'd sat close and insecure, but comfortable like the best friends they were, like two boys who'd grown up together and given each other their trust and their secrets and their hopes and their dreams. Lovino remembered when they kissed.

Lovino let that thought slip in and out easily, not caring over his mind that day. His thoughts had gone far and wide, beaten and battered him, consoled him from his guilt and turned back viciously to change its mind. Lovino no longer cared; at least, not today. Today, he would let his mind convulse and turn against him.

Unphased, Lovino's mind now turned to the ground and he decided to sit, his thoughts still subtly tainting. Lovino embraced it all today. He didn't fight back. Everything it said, every stray thought and vicious stab was right.

He sat down and leaned against the trunk of the tree, head back to the half bare branches above and eyes closed. Lovino could feel where he'd sat on dead leaves, some crinkling and others cracking beneath him.

Like that, Lovino could feel time tick away, like sand through the widening gaps between his fingers. A day went by, he stayed up with Feli, a week went by, he was helping his brother through a panic attack, a month, life was hectic, Feliciano couldn't sleep, he didn't eat, he startled at the slightest noise, he wasn't getting better, he was breaking apart.

Through every day of it, Lovino visited the tree and sat back, eyes closed and head up to the sky. Lovino never saw Antonio there.

Lovino took his textbooks to the tree, and his notes and his homework. And, for those few hours he spent there each day, he would bury himself in the familiar anxiety of not being enough, never being enough, but, hell, could he try.

His father's expectations had never been attainable. Antonio had tried to tell him, tried to warn him, but Lovino had never listened. Maybe it was because Lovino had already known, but he'd _had_ to try anyway.

Lovino had always known it wasn't attainable and, more than ever, he knew that now. But it was also closer in reach than anything else in life then.

His best friend and his brother were both so far away from him and there was nothing Lovino could do about it. They were on three separate islands and Lovino didn't know how to swim. He couldn't reach them, couldn't even yell over or wave.

So Lovino did what he _could_ do. He latched onto the one constant of his life while he began the impossible task of learning to swim. He held onto what had kept him grounded, steady, for almost as far as he could remember. It had begun for his brother, begun with his best friend, begun with a jealousy and a window and a stupid times table on his desk.

Lovino buried himself in study and insecurity and tried not to drown in the rest.

-/-

A little over a month after Feliciano's accident, it was evident things were not getting better for his little brother. Lovino hadn't seen Feliciano like this since he was four and just starting preschool, sitting alone and stiff on some playground bench as the other kids played on monkey bars and slides.

It was also becoming obvious to their father, apparently, who had been much more attentive as of late, eating dinner with them and driving Feliciano to his appointments. Not even Lovino went to those anymore.

After that month, their father was also becoming increasingly concerned.

One night, their father cooked dinner, which wasn't weird per say, but a certain brand of rare that made the two brothers a bit on edge. When their dad "cooked" it usually entailed ordering out or sticking a frozen pizza in the oven. It never meant _actually_ cooking something. For one, he never put in the time to cook a decent meal. For another, he was a pretty terrible cook.

But, that night, he made his mother's tortellini and effectively caused their grandmother to stir in her grave at the disrespect his hands had upon it. As Feliciano and Lovino sat at the table, their father readying bowls to bring out, they both crossed themselves, hoping to placate their deceased grandmother and praying for their tastebuds. When their dad finally came out, the three sat around the table in complete silence, either poking at the poor little tortellinis in their bowls or chewing and chewing and chewing on the overcooked pasta.

Then, without small talk or decent warning, the bomb was dropped.

"I've been talking with your grandfather recently," their father said and both Feliciano and Lovino looked up. Feliciano's drawn face watched, alert, but tired, while Lovino frowned something severe.

"Grandpa Roma?" Feliciano asked first, knowing their dad's own father was quite unavailable for conversation, resting peacefully next to their tortellini-haunting grandmother.

Their dad nodded and put his fork down, drawing himself up for discussion. Lovino saw Feliciano gulp across the table and he couldn't blame him. Lovino's own hackles rose.

"You're grandfather and I have decided that it may be for the best that you move in with him, in Oregon."

The words were so blunt that they struck the room silent. Lovino swore he could have heard a penny drop. After the initial shock was over, though, Lovino was up in arms.

"What?" he almost shouted, glaring at his father. "You just want Feliciano to move to Oregon? Just like that?"

"He would be taken care of there, much better than we can here. I have work and you have school, but Roma would be able to be with him at any time. Your grandfather's town is peaceful too, much less to deal with, and they have a great psychologist there that I've already given a call," he stated plainly, and the lack of emotion, the total fact of his words, rubbed Lovino in every wrong way. He launched to his feet, earning a yelp from Feliciano that he should have felt sorry for, but he was too focused on his father at the moment.

"You just want to send him away!" Lovino exclaimed. "You don't want to have to deal with him; just admit it! All you want is to not have to deal with the responsibility anymore!"

This, at least, got a reaction out of him, outrage lighting up their father's eyes. Feliciano protested from his side of the table, but their dad spoke over him, heat in his words and face.

"You do not get to speak to me that way," he said. "I am your father."

"Well, you sure as hell don't act like it!" Lovino argued, fists clenching. "You're never here! Before Feliciano's accident, you never ate with us or asked about our day. We barely ever saw you!"

"I am a busy man, Lovino. I ate dinners with you when I could," his father explained, as if Lovino just didn't understand the phenomenon, as if Lovino was the one that didn't understand. Like he wasn't even hearing him-

"A father's supposed to put his kids before work," Lovino shouted, finally getting to full volume, shaking and ready to pull his own hair out. How could their dad not _understand_ this? What about being an actual parent alluded the man so much?

"I do, Lovino, when it is appropriate. I can't just drop everything at any time; that's how I would lose my job."

"When it's appropriate, you say. Apparently, it's only appropriate to pay attention to your kids when they're in the hospital, or having a mental breakdown, huh? Or when you notice their grades are A's instead of A+'s or that they aren't prepping for a life that maybe they don't even want because they haven't had the chance to explore anything in life because all you drilled into their head is work study work study wor-"

"I thought you had dropped this little rebellious streak, Lovino," his father sighed, looking more irked than anything. "You were finally going back to study. Is that what this is about? You want to laze around again and shoot your chances at college in the face?"

"That's not- Urgh!" Lovino exclaimed, finally giving in and pulling at his hair. "This is about-" But Lovino didn't get any farther.

"Stop!" A voice shouted from across the table and it rattled Lovino. He looked back at his brother, shaking in his seat and looking about on the verge of tears. "Stop! Stop arguing and shouting and- and- _please_ -"

Feliciano took a breath and the tears streamed down, uncontrollable and sobbing. He wasn't having an attack, but it still looked painful and Lovino was at his side in a minute. The same could not be said for their father though, who took only a moment's breath as he looked on, long and hard. Then, he scooted his chair back with a loud screech and pursed his lips.

"We will talk more tomorrow, Feliciano," he stated, then stood from the table, collecting the bowls and disappearing into the kitchen. Lovino kept his brother in his arms, silent, as Feliciano held tight to his shirt.

It wasn't until later that night, the two brothers curled up again to watch some stupid old TV show on Lovino's laptop, that Feliciano said, "Maybe he's right."

Lovino knew exactly what he was talking about. He hadn't thought of anything else since dinner.

So he didn't say anything in return, just elected to keep his eyes on the screen.

Later, Lovino talked about it with his brother, but it was already too late. Plans were made without him, Lovino helpless to change a thing, and Feliciano started packing. He would leave once the semester ended.

And, in that short time, Lovino coped in the only way he knew how, in the only way he'd been steadily driving into himself since Feliciano's accident. He became half deranged in keeping himself busy, mind and body. Time divided between study and his brother, the brother who was about to leave him, the brother who was being sent away. He attempted to keep order in both of their lives'. He filled every gap with something productive - mind active, body tired. Lovino no longer went to the tree in the park. He hadn't talked to Antonio in a month.

Lovino counted down the days, watching the leaves disappear from the trees, frost crust over the grass, sky become more grey than anything. Finals buzzed through his veins, clocks ticked like drums, and the semester was over before he knew it.

The three of them were at the airport.

Then, Lovino was alone in his room. His laptop was shoved under his bed, no one to watch it with. His ears were ringing with the complete emptiness of the room, the house, the school and the park and the streets. Lovino knew then and there he would be walking in a life of silence from then on. And, that silence, it surrounded him, closing in, cutting through the air and stuffing it with tissue paper all at once.

So much space, too much space, not enough space.

It shook the air until it became a part of him.

It vibrated in his bones so intensely it eventually became-

Still.

And everything was horrifyingly still. And cotton filled his brain. And there was no work to occupy it. No brother to distract it. Lovino had been holding back a Pandora's box of claustrophobic catastrophes and he hadn't even known it. The yellow tape had reemerged, strangling and resisting and straining and- and-

Shredding. Again. It was unraveling.

Lovino knew enough about panic attacks to know they didn't always come loud and dramatic. Sometimes, they weren't from too much, from deadlines and everything happening all at once.

Sometimes, too little became overwhelming. Sometimes, the things that took up space in your life, those overwhelming things, were what grounded you.

Sometimes, the vacuum of space sucked every sense out of you and you can't breathe, but, even as your lungs contract, shrivel up inside of you, as you feel like you're falling apart at the seams, sometimes, you aren't gasping or crying or shaking.

Sometimes, it was silent. Sometimes, the world was falling apart, but it was all still.

* * *

 ** _CV: This chapter took me back to an old style of writing and I am not okay with that. But apparently okay enough to post anyway._**

 ** _So, news. This fic is going to be 18 chapters in total and my goal is to get those last chapters out before the end of the year. Sounds attainable, right? We'll see..._**

 ** _Also, in case anyone's interested, I set up a new tumblr solely for writing updates. I used to post them on my Hetalia blog, but I decided to make a new one since the fic stuff wasn't all Hetalia and this makes it just better alright. Check it out if you wanna, but, really, it's mostly just a heads up if I post/ update fics so maybe it's not your thing. [URL is 'codevassie']_**

 ** _We'll be getting back into Spamano next chapter because I know you guys must be missing it haha. I'm kind of up in the air if I should give Lovi one last chapter or go on back to Antonio's pov so let me know what you think maybe._**

 ** _Thanks guys and I hope you enjoyed! later!_**


	16. Chapter 16

Since Feliciano left, Lovino was quickly beginning to see how much his brother had impacted his life. It was two days after the airport and Lovino realized he wouldn't be able to take it much longer.

For starters, the house was perpetually empty and quiet. Still. And, given Lovino's track record with _still_ lately, it wasn't something he let himself dwell on, in fear of what it would do.

He turned on lights to random rooms of the house, and TVs and radios and anything he could to give the dark abode life. He started leaving messes around, like the ones Feli would have created and Lovino would have gotten annoyed over.

It being winter break, Lovino had very little to occupy his time. There was no school work, and no more did he stay up late watching whole seasons of sitcoms with his brother. He stayed away from the kitchen, uneasy with the space without Feli's opera and sauce spatters on the counters. Even if he tried, he doubted he could replicate them.

There was a hole, no, holes, in his life, and their presence made him aware of more than just an empty house and lost sleep. They sat next to each other; the initial, a hole around him that he had tried to fill with taking care of his brother and worrying about school again. He had been trying to fill two spaces with the content that belonged in one.

Lovino had never gotten used to that first hole, he noticed; only ignored it. Now, it was impossible to, though. Impossible to ignore two holes.

And impossible to sleep without stupid sitcoms on his laptop. And a brother squished into his stupid bed with him. And anxiety gnawing at his gut in a familiar tune akin to a twisted lullaby.

Yet, he had the stupid sitcoms, and anxiety unmeasurable, and still no sleep. He had grown used to his brother being there for him as much as he was there for Feli. In the assurance that Feliciano was okay, Lovino could sleep.

Despite receiving some texts and a few calls from Feli since he'd left, Lovino felt as if he could never know.

That night, though, with a horrible glare of light from his laptop shining across the room, his brother was somehow the last thing on Lovino's mind. He'd tried to free his twisting thoughts, shift his mind elsewhere, only to climb out of one hole and fall into another.

 _Antonio_.

He wondered how his friend was doing. It had been months since Antonio's dad had died, yet at school he was still quiet, withdrawn, very un-Antonio-like. He had stopped coming to their tree; stopped talking to Lovino much at all, really. Lovino had thought things would get better, as long as he'd given Antonio time. Lovino was still making the effort anyhow. Antonio still seemed to like Lovino too. The kiss hadn't scared him off-

The kiss. Now that was one thing Lovino refused to think about. And, so, as soon as his mind conjured it, he dropped the line of thought altogether. After shaking his head, Lovino pulled himself up from his ruined bed, blankets tossed left and right from his incessant shifting, and moved toward the bedroom door.

It was too much to just lay there. His thoughts would devour him whole if he gave them the opportunity. Instead, he decided to take a shower. The motions would be comforting, surely, and the heat and water would help clear his head. Stepping into the stream not long after, Lovino forced himself to take a long breath. As he released it, he touched the water and immediately drew it back, hissing. It was a little hot.

It didn't take long to get used to and he soaked in it. Slowly, Lovino felt his muscles relax and he closed his eyes for a moment before reaching for the shampoo. Going through the motions, it was simple to not think of a thing. It was an easy existence, without difficult, mind-occupying thoughts to distract him, yet without the bothers that would conjure when idle. It was lulling him into a relaxed state closer and closer to, dare he even think it, _tired_.

After rinsing his hair and washing his body, Lovino was ready to curl up and sleep, but the water wouldn't release him from its hold yet. Instead, as tired as he was, he sat down on the shower floor, legs too weak to carry on. Reaching behind him, Lovino pushed the knob down to turn off the water and continued to sit, trying to find his energy again.

As wound up as he had been lately, it was as if it all had finally exhausted his body. It was sort of a relief, to have the world a fuzzy liminal existence around him. He touched the smooth tub floor with his palm and appreciated its cold, a contrast to the heat that had provided him such relief before. Lovino couldn't imagine if it was because the hot water had become too much, or if his mind could not imagine a life where he had caught the short break of relaxation, without the shock that cold linoleum provided, reality creeping back in.

Lovino shook his head, picking it up from where it had been watching the contact through lidded eyes. He took in a breath, one far different than that which had been taken on his way into the shower—not a breath that loosened him, but one that built him up, prepared him for his normal state of existence—Lovino picked himself off the bath's floor and stepped out of the shower.

He toweled himself off and dressed, the peace he had just had slipping away bit by bit. It would not do for Lovino to forget the tense state which he lived for a single night of tranquil sleep, he supposed. By the time he had gotten back to his room, he was considerably calmer, but still far, far off of sleep that night.

Lovino looked at his bed for a few minutes, contemplating whether he should straighten out the blankets or just get in and hope it wouldn't bother him too much. Either option, honestly, sounded like a bad idea. He doubted it would help. He doubted it wouldn't help. He doubted the likelihood of laying down in anyway and finding sleep. Then, an idea hit him—one so familiar that Lovino was surprised he hadn't thought of it before.

He shook his head. He wasn't doing that. That was honestly dumb.

Lovino was already putting on his shoes.

At his door, Lovino peered out into the hallway. His dad's office light was off, so he must have already gone to bed. Quietly, Lovino snuck passed and down the stairs, heading straight for the backdoor. Like an old dance, Lovino exited the house, hopped the fence into Antonio's backyard, and approached the familiar window.

It was only as Lovino was close enough that, in a few steps, he'd be able to knock on it, alerting the other boy that he was there, that he questioned himself again.

What, exactly, was he doing? Hadn't he _just_ finished thinking about this before his shower? Antonio needed space. He didn't need Lovino knocking on his window in the middle of the night. He didn't need Lovino coming to him with his own problems and intruding and taking up space in his bed and keeping him up and stealing blankets like he always did. Antonio didn't need any of that right now. He probably just wanted to be alone.

The thought made Lovino sad, he'll admit. Maybe not aloud, but, yeah, thinking about Antonio dealing with his shit alone didn't make Lovino feel too hot. Antonio had never been the type before. He didn't like going through things alone—not like Lovino. Lovino used solitude to shift through his emotions, get himself together. Then he could accept other people around him. Then he could deal with questions or gross concern or whatever.

But, Antonio- Lovino thought about the first days Antonio had gotten back from California, of being at their tree and staying quietly together. He remembered being so angry when everyone else avoided Antonio at school because he wasn't his normal sunny self. He remembered playing MarioKart and Antonio being the one to speak up when he was ready.

It was the company and the patience that helped Antonio… right?

Lovino was supposed to know Antonio better than anyone else, he thought as he looked at the window. So why was he still having doubts?

Taking in a breath, Lovino closed his eyes as if he was back in the safety of his own home about to step into the shower. He relaxed his shoulders, commanded his muscles to release all tension. The air was cold in his lungs, the December air soaking through the light layer of clothing he hadn't thought much about before leaving his house. He didn't let himself think about it. He thought about the heat of his shower and blankets, and the sun above their tree in the summer, and Antonio's warm words and laugh and smile.

He stepped closer to the window, opening his eyes, and knocked. His breath stayed caged, claustrophobic against the bottom of his lungs, but he was far more relaxed than he thought he'd be able to be. He hoped Antonio would come.

And he did.

Antonio's face was surprised when it appeared, looking Lovino up and down as if he wasn't sure if he was imagining him there. Lovino felt a happy contentment at seeing Antonio, but he just lifted a hand and waved. Antonio opened the window, still looking bewildered as he asked, "Lovino?"

"Were you expecting anyone else at your window?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow with a smirk. He was rewarded with a tilt of Antonio's lips.

"I wasn't even expecting _you_ ," he said and Lovino flushed.

"Yeah, well, when are you ever?" Lovino stated more than asked, looking away and trying to pass off his embarrassment onto Antonio. Maybe if Antonio hadn't been expecting him, it was his own fault.

There was a small chuckle from Antonio; weak, but it sounded a lot more like Antonio than Lovino had heard in months. Lovino looked back and Antonio stepped a little to the side. "Come in?"

Lovino just nodded and climbed in, like he had done for years, like he hadn't done in so long. It felt like it had been decades and no time at all. He was glad to be back.

He was still nervous though. He stood in the middle of the room as Antonio closed the window, turning back to him. For a moment, it seemed as though neither of them knew what to do and simply stared at each other.

Finally, Antonio said, "Couldn't sleep?"

Lovino shrugged, as if in response, not willing to admit anything. "You?" he asked instead.

Antonio shrugged too. There was silence again.

For a moment, Lovino allowed himself to take in the room. It hadn't changed much in the time he hadn't been there. The desk was still messy, with papers all over it and a small space where Antonio's laptop laid, untouched. The closet was ajar, showing a floor of kicked off shoes, but semi-neat shirts hung up on hangers. The bed was a bit messy, but inhabitable. There was a singular pillow kicked toward the end of the bed, and, for a moment, Lovino was sure it must have been the one Antonio usually set aside for him. Upon closer inspection, though, it looked like one of the more random ones. Meanwhile, his pillow was still toward the head of the bed, smooshed against the wall, but still close.

Then, there was the soft music that he hadn't noticed before. It sounded upbeat, a happy sort of song, but nostalgic in a way. Not because the song seemed to be, but the style of music reminded Lovino of songs his babysitter from years and years ago would have listened to. It was turned very low, like Antonio had wanted it as some sort of background music, probably while he fell asleep. Looking around, Lovino found the source—an old CD player with green digital numbers and a plastic face and silver speakers.

" _And if you like to talk for hours, just go ahead now-"_

"Sleep, then?" Antonio asked, and Lovino's attention was ripped from the song. Antonio was gesturing to the bed and he nodded automatically. Antonio moved over to it, slipping under the covers and rearranging the pillows. He moved his own closer to the wall, placing Lovino's on the other side and giving him room.

Lovino stepped closer, suddenly feeling awkward. This was normal for them, yet… so much had changed. He stared at the space, at the pillow, for a moment, before climbing in, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge his hesitations. Screw that; this was his best friend.

Right? After all this time…

The comforter was warm and fluffy, as it always was. The pillow under his head felt like home. Still, Lovino refused to get too comfortable, those feelings of awkwardness still lurking over him. Next to him, Antonio shifted. Lovino shifted too. Then, they were both awfully still, as if unsure. Not wanting to disturb the other.

It had never been like this before.

Lovino chewed on his lip, wondering if this had been a good idea after all. He'd thought he'd known Antonio, known that he wouldn't want to be alone, but maybe he _did_. Lovino had never been good at reading people before; why should this be the exception?

Then, Lovino chanced a look to his right. His eyes locked with Antonio's and they both froze, having been caught looking at one another. It was one moment of complete silence, neither moved, then it was like all the tension broke and shattered between them. Antonio smiled. Lovino smiled. And they laughed.

It was from there that they shifted, and Lovino was finally comfortable, facing Antonio and pulling the covers up to his chin. Antonio faced him as well, close together as they talked in low, but friendly tones.

Just like that, things were back to as if they'd never been apart. They talked about trivial things, all in the dim of Antonio's room, the light of the moon shining through the window.

And it was the closest Lovino had been to Antonio in so long. His curls tickled his temple and his green eyes sparkled in the dim light. Lovino wanted to reach up and run a hand along his cheek, reassure himself that he was truly there.

But he didn't. Because that wasn't how things were between them. And he wouldn't mention the kiss and he wouldn't look at Antonio like he had hung the stars—at least, not more than usual. He just had to remind himself how dumb the other boy was. It shouldn't be hard.

Especially when Antonio acted like himself for the first time in a long time. When he acted happy and carefree and light-hearted, open and friendly in a way that made Lovino comfortable enough to tease him with "bastard" and "stupid Tonio…" again.

And, heart light, air absent of the buzzing stillness and loneliness of his own house, Lovino, for the first time since his brother had gone, slept without difficulty.

-/-

In the morning, Antonio's mom woke them up.

"Boys, I made pancakes," she announced at the door and, drowsily, Lovino squinted open his eyes, looking toward the voice. Momentarily, he had forgotten where he was, but he was so warm, so comfortable, and the person next to him so soft, he didn't care. Meanwhile, Antonio had groaned and stuffed his head under the covers, as if to block out the noise. Lovino heard chuckling at the door.

That was when he realized. Lovino blinked open his eyes, a lot more cognicent than before, and looked up at Ms. Carriedo. She raised an eyebrow, hand on her hip as she looked down at the two of them. For a moment, Lovino was a little kid again, caught sneaking into Antonio's room and causing his father to nearly call in a missing child to the police. He wasn't neglectful enough to not notice when his eleven year old son disappeared. These days he wouldn't care; Lovino was old enough in his eyes to take care of himself.

Then, once the sudden fear subsided, Lovino could only feel embarrassed. Ms. Carriedo had known for a long time they did this, almost as soon as it had started. At first, she had tried sending Lovino back home, as his father must have been worried when he left without saying, but she'd come to accept the reality, and this as part of the boys' relationship, as the years went by. She'd come to understand. Even so, though, Lovino could never stop feeling _caught_ when Ms. Carriedo mentioned it or saw him. He was usually out by the morning, having to get ready for school since, on the weekends they would have regular sleepovers, so it wasn't something he'd ever gotten used to.

Lovino wished he could hide his head under the covers like Antonio, but there was no way he'd do that to Ms. Carriedo. So, unable to hide his blushing face, Lovino sat up.

"Hi, Ms. Carriedo," he said and she smiled.

"Hi, Lovino," she said, and it was so quietly happy that it confused him. Her eyes shifted to the heap that was her son and back. "Get him up so breakfast doesn't get cold."

Lovino nodded. "Yes, ma'am," he said, turning to rouse Antonio. He'd pretend to be gentle while she was there, but probably hit him with a pillow once she left. Antonio was a deep sleeper and Lovino didn't have the patience. Besides, a sleepy whiny Antonio was hilarious.

"And Lovino?"

Lovino paused, turning back.

"I'm happy to see you back," she said, then left. Lovino sat, frozen, the words still trying to form some sort of understanding in his head.

Then, he smiled, turning back to Antonio like he had to hide it from the door Ms. Carriedo had just walked out of. After another moment, thinking to himself and feeling a quiet happiness take root in his gut, Lovino grabbed his pillow.

"Antonio, wake up!" he shouted and whacked the other boy.

-/-

Over a short time, their friendship became regular again. Lovino was welcomed over at any time, though Antonio's mom made it clear he had always been, and Antonio made sure Lovino was taking advantage of it. He went over for dinners and movie marathons and a whole lot of midnight window crawling. And every morning he woke up in Antonio's bed, Ms. Carriedo would just smile at them as they shuffled their way to the kitchen for food.

While they were together, they stuck to light topics of conversation, such as school gossip and silly TV shows. Late into the night they would giggle into their pillows and be happier than either had been for a while. Lovino had almost forgotten how much better it was to be there, in the Carriedo's house, or next to his best friend.

They had about a week of that no-worry life before Antonio was due to go to California for Christmas. He would be visiting Francis and Gilbert, but also some other family that were all still there. Antonio didn't mention how he was spending his first Christmas in a very long time without his dad.

One day, Ms. Carriedo brought up the trip when they all sat in the living room, watching reruns, asking Antonio if he had packed yet. Then, to Lovino's utmost surprise, she had turned to him.

"What are your plans for the holidays, Lovino?" she asked, and Lovino had to pause to think.

Usually, he would spend them with his brother, making sweet things to eat or watching Christmas movies throughout the day. Their father usually had Christmas off, and he would stick around to watch movies for part of the day, but then he would go to the church to listen to the choir.

Lovino didn't know what he'd do this year with his brother gone. Would any of it be worth it in an empty house?

So, Lovino shrugged, trying to look indifferent. Ms. Carriedo didn't seem to mind.

"Well, you're welcome to come over here. I'm making Christmas cookies to send to family and I'd love an extra set of hands."

"You aren't visiting them this year?" he asked, knowing that, though her son was usually gone for the holidays, Ms. Carriedo still had family in New York to spend it with. Most of her family still lived in California, some of which Antonio would probably see over the trip, but this had been where they'd moved because other family lived here too.

But Ms. Carriedo shook her head. "Not this year. They're on vacation."

At this, Lovino noticed Antonio looked particularly guilty, and he could imagine why. He had never been comfortable with leaving his mother for Christmas, but she'd always had people she spent it with too. Now she would be alone.

But Lovino could help with that. "Sure, Ms. Carriedo. I'd love to come over."

Ms. Carriedo beamed and clapped her hands together. "Great!" she exclaimed. "We'll have a fun time. Oh, and we can't forget to put up the tree before you go, Antonio."

Antonio nodded, his guilt looking somewhat abated, but not entirely. He smiled and said, "We can do that tomorrow. And Lovino can help!"

"Hey, don't say I'll do things before you ask!"

"Aw, but Loviii, I'll let you hang the star!"

"Idiot," Lovino grumbled, but he was already sold, star or not.

-/-

By the time Antonio was gone, off to California, Lovino was already relapsing to sleepless nights and anxious thoughts. The day Antonio was gone, Lovino was scrolling through his phone, clicking away at Snapchat stories and Tumblr posts, but he was awfully aware of the quiet of the house. His dad had left late that day, and the sounds of the shower and smell of burnt toast had been enough to ease Lovino for a while, but now, with his father off to the office, it was beginning to grate on him again.

So he decided to take a page from Antonio's book. Jumping from his bed, Lovino walked over to his desk and opened his computer, clicking open to the appropriate website. Selecting a playlist at random, Lovino turned up the volume and went back to his bed, reassuming the same position and picking up his phone. The sound of music blared loud enough that, for now, the rest of the house didn't exist. Only where the music touched, the confines of these walls, did, and it grounded Lovino.

Then, there was another sound that permeated the air. A weird ringing, and it wasn't coming from the phone in his hand.

Lovino jumped up and was his laptop in record time. He answered the Skype call to a smiling brother.

"Hi, fratello!" Feliciano greeted cheerily. Lovino's lips tilted up at the sight of his brother and he greeted him as well. He turned down the volume on his music, which still played through the call, and let his brother talk all he wished, catching him up on the happenings of his life. He looked tired, but his smile was genuine and that relieved Lovino. Maybe this really would be good for him.

They talked about Oregon, Grandpa Roma, even their mom, who Feliciano had already visited once since being there. Feliciano told him about Ludwig, the bastard Lovino had met last time and was apparently visiting his own grandfather for the holidays. It was a long conversation, talking about all the things that had happened since Feli had gone. When he asked what Lovino had been up to, Lovino didn't have a whole lot to tell, much to his brother's disappointment.

"So, you've just been moping around over break?" Feliciano asked, looking put out. It made something squirm in Lovino's gut. He shrugged.

"I mean, I've also been to the Carriedos," he said, hoping that would placate his brother. Instead, it far too excited him.

"Really?" Feliciano asked, looking ecstatic. "You're talking to Antonio again? How is he?"

So Lovino told him a bit about that too.

"Oh, that's so good," his brother gushed, relieved. "I guess that means…" he said, but trailed off.

Lovino frowned and tilted his head. "That means what?" he asked, but, as if coming back from a train of thought, Feliciano looked back, shaking his head.

"Nothing," he said. "Nevermind."

Suspicious, Lovino's frown lessened but, because he had been just relieved to receive this call, to see evidence that his brother was okay and see an actual genuine smile out of him, he let it go. He could drag it out of him later. Right now, Feliciano was still getting used to Oregon, still settling in and recovering. Lovino would leave him be.

After that, the call didn't take much longer and, by the time they signed off and the screen went black, then back to its homescreen, Lovino felt a lot better. He breathed, relieved to have seen his brother, to see he was doing okay and was at least happy.

He was just pushing away from the computer when, to his surprise, he received another call on the program.

Lovino pulled back to the desk and answered to find three faces squished into the camera lens, causing him to jump back and yelp. He heard laughter and saw as the three backed away. He was already yelling.

"You bastards! You scared the shit out of me! What the hell? Don't you know how to have a proper video call because I just got off a call with my brother and he had a lot more manners than the three of you!"

"Aw, you talked to Feli?" Gilbert asked. "How's he doing? Luddy told me they've been working the store again, poor bastards," Gilbert did not, in fact, sound very sympathetic as he laughed. Francis was rolling his eyes but, visible on the screen, Lovino could see Antonio had frozen as much as Lovino had.

They hadn't talked about Feliciano at all in the week they'd hung out again. Everyone knew he had left, of course. Feliciano had said his goodbyes at school, and even gone over to the Carriedos specifically. Everyone knew that Feliciano had moved, meanwhile, Lovino had stayed. There had been a lot of looks in the hallways, looks that he had mostly ignored, some of puzzlement and some of pity.

But Antonio had never let on any of the sort. He knew, but he didn't ask with words or expressions. They had kept things light, afraid to tear the patched friendship between them.

"My brother is fine," Lovino replied carefully, not giving anymore than that. There was a silence then, and Lovino was sure that they were regretting talking to him. But he didn't want them to hang up. If they did, he would be alone again. And the house, empty as it was, was just too still.

"Lovino, have you seen the 1938 film adaptation for _Pygmalion_?" Francis asked suddenly, and Lovino looked back toward the screen. Francis was in the middle of the three, looking directly into the camera as if the past few minutes had never happened. He had cut it away, revised it out of their conversation. Now, they were talking about that freaking play again?

Lovino latched on to it like a lifeline. "No, why would I have?"

"You must. It is… well, quite the film. Well made, accurate, very great adaptation until the last thirty seconds of the movie, I would say."

"The last thirty seconds?" Lovino asked, and, with that, he was swept away by a torrent of Francis' criticism. And, as much as the French bastard annoyed him, it was a relief to focus on something trivial like this, and he forgot the conversation about his brother.

"-I mean, how could they do that?" Francis exclaimed. "Not only did they ruin a perfectly good film like that in the last few seconds—in essence, throw a bomb on it and running away—but also manipulate one of the most important themes of the play until it is unrecognizable. It's atrocious."

"I need to watch this movie," Lovino said, feeling offended without even having seen it yet.

"You do. It will be simultaneously one of the best and worst adaptations you've ever seen," Francis agreed. Meanwhile, Gilbert, to the right, looked bored out of his mind, having rolled onto his back to scroll through his phone. To the left, Antonio looked intrigued, but lost. In fact, he mostly just seemed to be watching Lovino.

"So, how long have you even been there?" Lovino asked, finally directing the conversation to Antonio. "You must have called up pretty quickly."

Antonio smiled, sly with a waggle of his eyebrows. "What can I say? I miss you already."

"Gross," Lovino teased, wrinkling his nose. In reality, his insides were on fire, his gaze glued to Antonio's smile, that silly brow wiggle, his beautiful eyes."Take that sappy shit elsewhere."

This was accompanied by an 'aw' from Francis and, having finally gotten Gilbert's attention, exaggerated kissy faces. Coming from Gilbert, it wasn't as awkward as he would have thought, despite having history with the other boy. In fact, what worried Lovino more than anything was the implication behind it.

 _Did Antonio ever tell them about the kiss?_

Lovino's brain was suddenly screaming at him in a mix of panic and swearing, eyes wide as he watched Gilbert, and Antonio's flushing face. It was times like this that Lovino liked to turn the tables, call Antonio out on his blushing and ask who looked like a tomato now, but he was stuck.

They were Antonio's best friends; surely he'd tell them everything.

Lovino then watched them for what felt like forever, as Antonio went to playfully, though bashfully, tackle Gilbert, and Francis falling in the middle of it. They all tussled about, Antonio going for a noogie against Gilbert's white hair, and Francis trying to scramble away, looking both offended and humorful at once. No one was looking at him, or paying attention to him in the least, but Lovino couldn't help but feel eyes boring into his skin.

" _Sometimes quiet is violent, I find it hard to hide it…"_

His music drawled in the background as he watched, divorced from the company the computer had granted him, feeling alone again suddenly. There was him and there was them. They all knew, but Lovino was the one left out. They were Antonio's friends, not his. He wasn't a part of this.

" _My pride is no longer inside, It's on my sleeve, My skin will scream…"_

The empty house started to crawl back in, under the door, the music not enough to solidify the walls and keep it out anymore.

It was then that Lovino felt relief, for once, to receive a text from his father. Looking down at his phone for a moment, the tusseling seemed to calm down. Eyes, actual eyes this time, were back on him, and Lovino couldn't figure out which screen was worse then, the computer's or his phone's.

"Lovi?" Antonio asked and Lovino looked up.

He lifted his phone, as if it alone could give sufficient explanation. He commanded his mouth to work. "It's my dad."

A look passed Antonio's face and it was familiar to Lovino. Disappointment at having to cut their call short, but also the concern that hearing about Lovino's father always somehow evoked. "Oh," was all he said.

"I should probably go," Lovino explained, and it was then that he saw varying shades of worry and disapproval on Francis and Gilbert's faces as well. He decided to focus on Antonio. He could only take so much pity.

"Yeah, yeah," Antonio agreed, looking reluctant all the same as he nodded his head. "Text later?"

"Sure," Lovino responded, shrugging and already going to move his mouse over the red 'end call' button. "Later."

After a chorus of 'later's in response, severely lacking their usual jeering tone, Lovino had ended the call and was greeted again by a silent house. If that text was anything to go by, he wasn't truly alone in his home, but it felt empty just the same. He wondered when his father had gotten home, looking at the dark sky outside his window, clouds drifting and blotting out the moon, shading the night in grey. The calls must have lasted a lot longer than Lovino had thought.

But he shook his head, refusing to think about it. Lovino stood from his bed, drawing himself together to meet with his father, as the text had requested. Whatever it was, Lovino doubted it would be good, so he went through a few rounds of exercises he had learned over the years.

 _Clear your mind. Forget your emotions. You are not Lovino in front of him._

Lovino had never quite figured out who he was around his father, but it hardly mattered. His thoughts and feelings bore no weight in that office. He had to have the strength of a brick wall—blank and dull and flat, but strong nonetheless. Perhaps he wasn't anyone when he stepped into that office. Maybe he was merely a brick wall.

By the time Lovino had walked down the hallway, the walls on either side too blank and lifeless—reminding him of what he had to be, to be strong—the walk so much longer on his way there as opposed to any of the other rooms, Lovino felt ready. He reached out and knocked on the door calmly.

"Come in," a voice from inside called. Lovino did as it said. He closed the door behind him and stood, ready, in front of the desk. His father wasn't ever one to dawdle. He was ever efficient, cut right to the chase. Time was a currency which he handled with utmost care. It wasn't long until he was looking up at his son, holding out an envelope, already open and a paper unfolded atop it. His grip wrinkled the paper and his frown was severely set. "Your report card," he announced and, despite Lovino's best efforts, his heart seized.

Gingerly, he took the proffered paper from his father, looking it over.

Lovino had fallen back on his old habits lately of studying too hard, burying himself in it, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. Not after a whole semester of not caring, of purposefully avoiding the work. He wasn't surprised, nor was he particularly disappointed. He had given up on trying to impress his father, as much as each grade twisted his heart. He'd only fallen back on those habits to distract himself, in all honesty.

But, now, the dread in Lovino's bones told a different story. One that wanted to reset time. One that would go back and do it all again, and do it right. He would get the grades so his father would nod and act like that was simply what was expected of him. He would never receive pride from the man, but he could maintain the status quo.

This whole semester—it had been about breaking that status quo though. Apart of Lovino had _wanted_ to disappoint his father. _Anger_ him.

His report card showed an impressive array of B's. A good grade, but not in his father's eyes. Nothing about this was _acceptable_ , much less _good_.

The question was simple. "What is this?" his father asked. And Lovino, having forgotten he'd dropped all his thoughts and feelings back in his room, or was supposed to have, responded with sass.

"I thought you said it was my report card."

There was fire in his father's eyes as he took in Lovino's defensive form before him. He sat up in his chair, his hands resting on his desk in an imposing stance. Lovino had to resist the urge to lean away.

"I want an explanation," his father demanded. "Now."

Lovino, heart caught in his throat, had no words. There was no explanation, was there? He could have worked harder, anyone could see that, but he hadn't. Instead, he shrugged, trying to push away the thoughts that insisted he beg his father to believe in him, that he'd do better next time. But he would not be pathetic. He was not a being there to please his father.

"I told you this would happen," his father continued. "You slacked off and you got distracted and look what happened."

"B's aren't that bad, Dad," Lovino argued, now gripping the paper so hard himself that he was afraid it would tear. He was shaking slightly.

"You are _better_ than B's, Lovino," his father stated, his voice rising.

Then, Lovino slammed the report card back on the desk, tears springing at the corners of his eyes. "What if I don't want to be better than B's? What if I don't want to have perfect grades and nothing else in life?"

"You will _get_ nothing else in life without a good GPA, because it will get you into a good school and find you a good future," his father said back, dismissing him easily and standing up, using his own height to look down on Lovino now.

"What future?" Lovino asked, spitting out his words. "You mean like a job that never let's me come home, or holes me up in an office when I am, or makes me skip out on family dinners and holidays and stop caring about my own kids?"

Suddenly, there was silence in the room as those words sank in. Lovino was shocked, shocked at the words that had come out of his mouth, bottled up for years and curdled like old milk. His father seemed just as surprised, standing at his desk with a slack-jawed look. Then, he collected himself, speaking much quieter this time. The calm tension in his voice unnerved Lovino more than anything.

"Get out."

Lovino swallowed. He opened his mouth to protest, to apologize, but his father cut him off.

"I do not want to see you until we have both cooled off. Leave now," he said, then turned his back. His shoulders were stiff and his fists had curled. Lovino decided, for once, to just obey his father and he turned to leave.

The door slammed shut resolutely behind him and, as soon as he heard it, Lovino took off. He wasn't sure where he was going, but his feet obeyed before his mind was even made up. Downstairs, he pushed his tennis shoes onto his feet, then grabbed his coat off the rack before jerking the door open and rushing outside. He was keeping a determined pace up the sidewalk, cold night air nipping at his cheeks, before he had even thought a word.

He kept up his pace for a while, determined to leave it all behind, get as far away as possible, but, as he went on, he eventually started to slow, little by little. Eventually, he realized he was out in the cold and he had still to put on his winter coat so, without breaking pace, he pulled it on, zipping it up to his nose. Digging in the pockets, he found a hat and a scarf, which he promptly put on as well. Regrettably, his hands would have to go cold. He stuffed them in his pockets.

Before he knew it, he was at the only place he could have expected. He stood in front of their tree, leafless in the dead of winter, yet standing strong against the grey night. Lovino didn't approach, instead, simply looking, and pulled out his phone, which he had thankfully been carrying in his pants pocket since he'd first gotten the dreaded text from his father. Upon turning on the screen, he exited out of that conversation immediately.

He opened another, looking at it for a long time. Lovino knew what he'd say, what he'd want-

Antonio would want Lovino to call him. He'd tell him to go to his house; Antonio's mom would let him in. He'd say that it was too cold, that it was too late to be out, that he shouldn't have to hang out at the park because he wasn't welcome home. That Lovino was always welcome in the Carriedos'.

Lovino put away his phone. Oddly enough, the decision was easy, but the action difficult. It hurt his fingers, on some subliminal level, to slide the phone back into his pocket.

Watching his breath come out in a visible cloud before him, Lovino shivered. He knew he shouldn't be outside. He knew Antonio would be right. He knew he'd always be welcomed at his house, Ms. Carriedo would be more than happy to let him in and would cook them dinner and give him hot cocoa for comfort. But something stopped him. Lovino wouldn't go, couldn't stop pulling away, refusing, denying.

He buried his face into his scarf, trying to ward off the insistent cold that had made home in his bones. It was then that he saw the colors—red, green, white. It was his Italian flag scarf—the scarf that, once upon a time, Antonio had given him for Christmas.

A wave of warmth flooded Lovino then, and, still nose deep into the material, a small smile danced on his lips.

It would be a while until he finally decided to go back to his house, and, though he couldn't bring himself to call Antonio, he didn't feel without him out there. It was odd that, only a short while ago, with Antonio just on the other side of a screen, Lovino had felt so alone, but, now, actually alone, he couldn't.

He walked closer to the tree and leaned against its bark, two dejected figures in the winterscape, both with the memory of warmer days and sunny smiles which ensured they were not alone.

* * *

 ** _[EDIT: Forgot to mention! Lyrics from this chapter are from "Two Princes" by Spin Doctors and "Car Radio" by twenty one pilots. Both on the fic's playlist! Thanks]_**

 ** _CV: I've been struggling with this fic for a bit, but this chapter was actually a lot of fun to write! I'm really happy with it! I was going to split it into half Lovi's pov and half Toni's, but it got too long... But, bc of this, this is technically half of what I had planned to write for this chapter. My outline looks like it's going to be around 19 chapters now, and I actually like it a whole lot better like this. And, obviously, I'm not going to get it all done before the end of this month (despite having chapter 17 pretty much done too yay). This semester destroyed me and any free time or motivation I had lol._**

 ** _So my new goal is to get this stuff done before the anniversary of this fic in April. Maybe I can work it out where the last chapter's published on that day. I don't have my hopes up for that deadline though with my track record heh..._**

 ** _Other news: On that tumblr I mentioned last time, I sometimes take one-shot requests, both for Hetalia and Voltron. Maybe I'll expand into other fandoms too one day. Come on by if you're interested! [url: codevassie]_**

 ** _I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I appreciate everyone still reading so much! This fic has gotten so long and the update schedule so nonexistent that it amazes me that anyone is still here haha. You guys have all my love! Until next time._**


	17. Chapter 17

_**Warnings: Antonio thinks about his father's death. Grief. Lovino's anxiety.**_

* * *

Antonio couldn't stop smiling.

Christmas day in California was usually a fun event. Normally, he'd wake up and find his dad already in the kitchen, poking at bacon with a spatula and avoiding the spitting grease with wimpish noises. It always made Antonio laugh and, upon hearing that laughter, his dad would turn around and narrow his eyes, like he was suppose to be offended or something, but the tiny, suppressed smirk on his lips would give him away.

From there, he'd declare the importance that Antonio go grab their stockings so they could eat candy with their breakfast. When Antonio got them, they'd unpack and unwrap everything in the oversized socks onto the counters. Through this distraction, his dad would forget the bacon and either get burned by spitting grease or blacken the strips to shriveled crisps. They'd laugh either way.

Then, they'd have breakfast - bacon and whatever else his dad had cooked, alongside their favorite candies and coffee. They'd talk and laugh and his dad would go into the other room to dig out one of his holiday CDs. After breakfast, they'd open presents, Antonio would undoubtedly find more enjoyment in balling up all the wrapping paper to throw his dad's way, and Christmas tradition would be complete.

That morning, present day, there had been no spitting grease or burned bacon, no familiar holiday CDs. Antonio had woken up at the Bonnefoys, the guest room pristine. For a long time, he'd simply looked at the ceiling.

Then, there had been a ruckus. A door banging open and a blur of white and blond rushing in. Before Antonio could react, Francis and Gilbert were tackling him. "Merry Christmas!"

Antonio had been welcomed to the Bonnefoy house like any other trip to California, but this time had been so different. This time, Ms Bonnefoy had been very careful around him. This time, Francis was keeping a sharp eye on him, probably afraid of where his mind would dwell this holiday season. This time, it was Christmas and he wasn't with his dad.

Gilbert's family had gone to Oregon this year, but he'd stayed behind. Apparently, he had convinced them that he had to be with Antonio and Francis this year. Antonio hadn't asked why; he'd just pulled his friend in and wondered how he'd come to have such great friends.

They were trying their best to make Christmas as fun and merry as possible, giving Antonio no time to dwell before they shoved a present in his face or asked him a question or showed him some cool thing they'd just unwrapped. At breakfast, Antonio munched on some Mike n' Ikes he'd dug out of his stocking and felt a little piece of home with him.

It wasn't until later in the day, though, that he felt truly at home again. This wasn't from a holiday familiarity, though. It didn't remind him of his father when he received a Skype call from New York, answering it to find a flour decked mother and friend standing in the familiar kitchen of their New York home.

And that was where he was now, looking down at his laptop, alone in the guest room of the Bonnefoy house, lips stretching uncontrollably and heart swelling.

"Merry Christmas, Mijo!" his mother greeted as soon as he'd picked up, looking down at where her phone must have been propped on the counter.

Antonio waved. "Merry Christmas!" he responded, wanting to reach through the screen to wrap his mom in a hug, at risk of being covered in the powder himself. "Merry Christmas to you too, Lovino!"

That was when the boy in question turned, abandoning his task of rolling dough, to acknowledge Antonio. "Buon Natale," he responded, a sparkle in his eye that Antonio wished he could see up close and first hand. There was flour in his curly hair and a smudge on his cheek. Antonio chuckled at the sight.

"Oh, Lovino," his mom chuckled herself and licked her thumb. Antonio saw the fear in Lovino's eye as she approached, smudging the mess from his face. Too polite to protest, he stood as still as possible, face soon overtaken by red. Now, Antonio was full on laughing. When his mother turned back to the screen, satisfied, she caught his laughing face and reprimanded him for teasing _poor Lovino. How do you put up with my son? I did not raise you to be mean, Antonio._

Which had, naturally, been hypocritical because she was teasing _him_ in doing so. Then, to make matters worse (better. Lovino was smiling and Antonio's world was lit like the Christmas lights outside. So much better.) Lovino rolled his eyes, saying, "He's always mean. It's no fault of yours, Ms. Carriedo; it's innate."

Betrayed, Antonio watched as his mother laughed. He clutched at his heart and begged the two, "I have never been mean a day in my life!"

"I agree and will fight anyone who disagrees," a voice suddenly said and Antonio looked up to find Gilbert walking in, apparently having heard the last bit of the conversation.

Antonio nodded, imploring his mother and Lovino, "See? Gilbert agrees."

That was when Gilbert jumped on the bed, sprawling out and leaning over to look at the screen. "Oh. Ms. Carriedo. I take it back; I agree with whatever she said."

On the screen, he could see his mom cover her chuckles with a hand, meanwhile, Antonio took blatant offense to this new betrayal. "Will no one take my side? I am alone in the truth!"

"Normally, I would agree with Toni," another voice came from the door and, like that, the whole gang was there. "But, if I recall correctly, you said I looked like "alien toast" when I had put on a face mask the other day."

Gilbert snickered and Antonio pretended to frown. "But Gilbert said that too!"

Francis came over to sit on the bed, positioning himself to be on the screen as well, waving a hello to Antonio's mom and Lovino. Gilbert snorted.

" _I'm_ not nice, Toni," Gilbert said in explanation.

"Yes, you are!" Antonio protested, but was drowned out by a sudden conversation taking place between his mother and Francis.

"Christmas cookies! What kind are you making?" Francis asked and his mother beamed.

She began to ramble off about cookie types and ingredients and people she was sending them to. She offered to send some over with express shipping and Antonio got excited, but Francis insisted there was no need, as much as he would love to try them. Antonio was forced to give up on his protests from before in order to persuade his mother to send some.

Some time into the conversation a beep sounded off to the side and his mom's eyes darted to the oven. "I have to get that. Lovino," she turned toward the boy, who had been cutting shapes into the dough - stars and reindeer and santa hats. "Come talk to the boys."

Then, she was gone from the screen and Lovino put down the cookie cutters. When he approached the screen, Gilbert immediately went, "Sup, Shorty?"

"Nope. Changed my mind," Lovino said, turning back around, but Antonio called out.

"Wait wait wait! Lovi, come back! He didn't mean it!"

Lovino turned back, narrowing his eyes. "He did," he said, then sighed. "But I'll come back anyway." He walked back and Antonio beamed.

"Of course you will," Gilbert teased. "I'm irresistible."

"Someone shut him up," Lovino requested and, with a smile, Francis slapped his hand over Gilbert's mouth. Gilbert gave a muffled noise of indignance. Lovino turned back to Antonio, satisfied. "How's your Christmas, idiot?"

It was a while after that that they actually talked about Christmas, since Antonio decided to complain about Lovino calling him an idiot, Francis said it was flirting, Lovino threatened to end the call (with a rather severe blush), and Gilbert licked Francis' hand, causing the other to shriek in repulsion and wipe the spit off on Gilbert's shirt.

Soon enough, it was time to hang up the phone, as it was getting quite late over in New York and Ms. Carriedo was keeping Lovino hostage for Christmas dinner. After the call ended, Antonio's heart was light and full all at once, and he watched the screen, taken back to its regular menu, for a few solid minutes afterward as Francis and Gilbert talked.

He was interrupted when there was suddenly a hand in front of his face and a loud snap as it maneuvered its fingers appropriately for the effect. Antonio blinked, then followed the arm attached to the hand, up to the face it belonged to. Francis smiled at him, shaking his head. "Still with us?"

Embarrassed, Antonio laughed weakly, turning back to his friends and shutting his laptop. "Yeah, heh, sorry."

"It's alright, man," Gilbert said, lounging leisurely with arms folded behind his head, leaning against the headboard of the bed and feet kicked up, somehow, socked only. Usually Gilbert wouldn't altogether care, but this was Francis' place, and something about this cleanly, minimalist house made even Gilbert feel weird about not dropping his shoes off at the door. "We all know how you get about your boyfriend," Gilbert said, smiling teasingly.

Despite registering it as teasing, though, Antonio completely froze. The room went silent as, apparently, Francis couldn't find anything to say to that either. It was impossible for Gilbert not to pick up, who was now looking between them, eyebrows furrowing, confused.

Antonio floundered for something to say, realizing his mistake, but, looking at Francis for help, was only met with a wide-eyed stare, caught. _Shit_.

"Wait…" Gilbert said, lowering his arms and leaning forward. _Double shit_. "Really?"

Antonio brought his hands up to cover his face. _Whyyyyyy_ his internal monologue was whining.

"For how long?" Gilbert asked then, looking between the two, seemed to piece something together. "Wait, Franny, you knew?"

And Francis, usually so elegant, could only reply, "Uhhhh."

"Oh," Gilbert said, sounded so down now that Antonio had to throw his hands down and look his friend in the eye.

"I'm sorry, Gilbert!" he pleaded. "I would have told you!"

"No. I mean, it's your business. Tell who you want," Gilbert said, waving it away and trying to look like it wasn't affecting him. "Pssh. It's fine." Gilbert shrugged, but Antonio was already insistently shaking his head.

"You don't understand," he tried to explain, but this would be difficult. He'd felt guilty for so long about not telling Gilbert, about having felt this way when Gilbert had been somewhat dating Lovino. "When I was figuring it out, erm," Antonio scratched the back of his head, "It would have been a little awkward to tell you."

Gilbert still looked confused, like he was trying desperately to understand while also trying to come off like it didn't bother him.

"You liked him too," Antonio explained, and figured there was no better way to say it. Suddenly, understanding dawned on Gilbert's face.

"During the summer?" he asked, shocked. Sheepishly, Antonio nodded. "Oh shit. Dude, I didn't- I never thought-"

But Antonio was shaking his head again. "We already did this, Gilbert. Remember?" he smiled. "I told you you didn't need my permission. I was only just figuring it out anyway, and I was still with Emma…"

"But, still," Gilbert said, looking for the right words. He shook his head, as if giving up and simply said. "I'm so sorry."

"No, Gilbert, seriously. There is nothing to be sorry about," Antonio said. "You did nothing wrong with asking Lovino out. No breach in bro code and no hard feelings."

It took Gilbert a moment, scrutinizing Antonio's face and contemplating his argument but, eventually, he relaxed and nodded. "Alright," he said, and it seemed all was well. Then, a sly smirk crept onto Gilbert's face and Antonio knew something was coming. "So, Lovino, huh?"

Antonio groaned, putting his head back into his hands. He heard Francis chuckle behind him and shifted so that he was facing both of them again.

"When are you going to tell him?" Gilbert asked, once again leaning back and sticking his arms back behind his head. Antonio peeped through his fingers.

"I've been trying to tell him to do something for months now," Francis whined, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, but you guys haven't really been talking, right? Ever since…" then Gilbert trailed off and there was a jagged scar in the conversation.

Antonio picked it up, ignoring the sudden tension. "Since my dad died, I wasn't really talking to a lot of people. Then everything with Feli happened and, well, I hadn't been talking to Lovi, so I thought it might be weird to ask about it, you know? I only heard about it at school."

"But you two seem to be doing well now," Francis pointed out, gesturing to his laptop. Antonio nodded.

"We started talking again after school let out. I think he was lonely without Feli there with him."

"So, my question remains," Gilbert said. "When are you gonna tell him?"

"Erm, well…" Antonio started, not sure how to exactly bring that up.

" _Please_ , Antonio," Francis said, putting as much of his suffering into his voice as he could. "As your friend, I can honestly tell you it is killing me to watch you both pine like this."

"Well-" Antonio said again, but was interrupted.

"Grow some balls, man," Gilbert said. "The guy's been in love with you far longer than your oblivious ass could realize your feelings for him. You really have nothing to lose."

"But-" Antonio tried, but then there was Francis.

"Gilbert, you were with Lovino when Antonio's oblivious ass was realizing his feelings for him."

"I stand by what I said."

"But-" Antonio tried again.

"Do you really mean-" Francis started, eyes widening.

"Yep."

" _While_ you two were dating?" Francis gasped, leaning forward. Gilbert, perhaps a little self deprecatingly, scratched the back of his head.

"Yep…"

" _Oh_."

"I _know_ ," Gilbert laughed.

"Then Antonio _must_."

"That's what I've been trying to say!"

Francis turned, looking excited. "Antonio, did you hear that? You have to tell him!"

"No!" Antonio suddenly exclaimed, causing them both to jump with shocked looks on their faces. "Because he already knows!"

There was a beat of silence, wide eyes looking at him, then the effect was instantaneous. Both of his friends bolted forward, getting in Antonio's personal space as they demanded explanation.

"You told him?" Gilbert was asking, practically shaking him by his shoulders.

"How does he know?" Francis demanded, getting very close. "How could you not tell me?"

"Er, well," Antonio said, scratching the back of his neck and looking away from his friends, who were still very much in his personal space. Normally, he wouldn't mind, but now it felt as though there was no room to think. "I didn't _tell_ him, per say."

There was silence again. Why was there always silence?

"Antonio," Francis said, and he sounded almost pitying. Antonio's eyebrows came together, almost offended. "As obvious as you think you may be, Lovino is just as oblivious. You have to use your words."

"But I kissed him," Antonio said, confused. Was there anything more straightforward?

But, again, his friends went immediately from 0 to 100. Simultaneously, so much that it was almost comical, they said, "WHAT."

Antonio watched his friends' wide eyes and slack jaws and decided, with a laugh or a sigh, he wasn't sure which exactly it was, that a lot more explanation was due.

So he started from the beginning.

-/-

A week later, New Year's day, Antonio was back from California. He wasn't sure if Lovino knew when he'd be back, even though he was pretty sure his mom probably had kept him up to date, so, wanting to see him as soon as he could, Antonio texted him and asked him to come over. About ten minutes later, they were sitting on Antonio's bedroom floor playing cards.

"Did you have a good Christmas?" Antonio asked, sorting his cards on the floor where they had double solitaire laid out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lovino nod.

"Your mom made sure," he said, sounding quietly happy over the fact. "I couldn't escape."

"Thanks for staying with her, by the way," Antonio said, feeling that familiar guilt creeping in. "I was worried she'd be alone this year."

For a moment, Lovino's hands stilled on his cards, then resumed, saying, "I think she was the one who made sure I wasn't alone this year."

Antonio bit his lip, fidgeting with the stack he had been just about to draw from. They hadn't really talked about it, but… "How is Feli doing?"

"...fine," Lovino answered. Antonio nodded, accepting this as how far Lovino was willing to talk. He drew his cards. "Oregon's helping."

"Hm?" Antonio asked, trying to sound nonchalantly interested. His ears perked up, but he kept his eyes on his cards, skimming the board.

"It's calmer. And Nonno watches after him. School will probably be the real challenge though."

"Why do you think that?" Antonio asked, keeping up with the conversation, but Lovino didn't answer straight away. Antonio looked up to find Lovino fidgeting with his own cards, a crease in his forehead.

"I don't know how well you knew about it, but Feliciano used to have bad anxiety. That's why he moved to Oregon. It was coming back and, well, it was too much for my da- for _us_ to handle," Lovino said, correcting himself, but not quickly enough that Antonio hadn't heard.

"Because of the car crash?" Antonio asked. "He wouldn't come to school for a while after that." Lovino nodded. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"And you?" Antonio asked, to Lovino's apparent confusion.

"What?"

"Well, you haven't been doing well either, have you?" Antonio asked, but Lovino still looked a bit confused. And shocked. "You looked so tired toward the end of semester. Even before that, before the accident, you were never paying attention. Something's up, isn't it?"

Lovino just shrugged, picking up one of his cards and putting it in another pile. Antonio sighed, looking down at his own cards again. Spotting one, he picked it up, shifting it to the community piles above but, just as he was setting it down, he noticed Lovino's hand already there, beating him to it. Their fingers were touching.

Antonio retracted as quickly as he could, laughing it off. "Looks like you beat me to it," he said, feeling the tips of his ears burn. Lovino didn't laugh, but Antonio, looking up, saw he was biting his lip, face grower a few shades darker. Upon eye contact, Lovino broke away, looking back down at his cards.

"Just arguing with my dad," Lovino said, and it took Antonio a moment to realize he was answering his previous question. "Same as ever."

"Arguing over what?" Antonio asked. He was nosy, but they were close enough friends that it wasn't weird. Still, Lovino looked reluctant.

Antonio was about to change the subject, sensing his friend's discomfort, when Lovino spoke up. "Studying. Grades."

Antonio paused, taking the words in. Well, that was… new. "Really?"

"Yep. Like you've been telling me, grades aren't everything," Lovino said, but the argument sounded weak, like it was something he had been telling himself and had lost sight of its value.

But Antonio was encouraging anyway, proud of his friend. "I'm glad."

Lovino gave a smile at that. It was small, and rather weak, but he tried. Antonio remembered a long time ago thinking to himself how much he wanted Lovino to smile, to see that, to be the one to make it happen even. The urge came back. He wanted a real smile on those lips. He wanted Lovino to be happy.

"Ever flicked cards before?" Antonio asked and Lovino looked up, confused, but, oddly enough, with narrowed eyes. He'd known Antonio long enough to know when a challenge approached.

"Show me," he said. Antonio tried, positioning the card between his fingers and snapping. The card fell to the floor. Tried again. Failed. Again. "Is this supposed to happen?" Lovino asked, amused. It was not, in fact, supposed to happen, but it seemed to have done the trick anyway.

Antonio looked up into Lovino's eyes, sparkling in amusement, and thought He's beautiful.

Lovino picked up one of his cards. "Let me try."

It wasn't long until there were cards everywhere and they were both laughing. Lovino was smiling, happy, and it made Antonio the happiest he could be.

The kind of happy he'd missed these past few months.

-/-

Not long after, school started back up. And it was better - so much better than the past semester.

Antonio and Lovino chattered in the hallways. Antonio kicked at Lovino's legs when he was bored in class and snickered when Lovino tried to get him back, all without the teacher noticing. After school, they would walk back to their houses, where Antonio would oftentimes invite Lovino into his own and they would work on schoolwork or watch TV. It was nice. It was so normal, but, honestly, more than Antonio could have hoped for.

Things were still far from perfect though. For one, they no longer went to the park. No longer mentioned their spot under their tree.

Antonio hadn't been there in months now. He'd stopped going, too worried about… everything to even think it. What if Lovino had gotten tired of seeing him so bummed out all the time? What of he went and Lovino wasn't there that day and he was simply alone? Alone at their tree somehow sounded a lot worse than alone in his room.

Now, Antonio couldn't even imagine trying to go. Not simply because it was the winter time, but because he knew he must have left Lovino there, alone himself, on many occasions over the past months. What if he had ruined the place for them now? What if he didn't deserve to return to their sacred spot?

Then, there was Lovino himself. As much as they had fallen right back in with each other, there was no denying that they had changed in those months. Perhaps the changes were subtle. Perhaps a few months wasn't all that long in the grand scheme of things. But they had been best friends for years and these differences were quite plain for Antonio to see.

Lovino, much like at the beginning of the previous semester, still wasn't paying attention to class, or his studies, as he normally would. Antonio had a bit more context for that now, sure - Lovino was arguing with his father, trying to cut back on the obsessive dedication the man had instilled in his son for school - But none of that explained the odd fixation Lovino still had with bringing his textbooks, notebooks, and binders around everywhere with him.

It was like a switch. Sometimes, Lovino refused to do anything; he avoided his work, he refused to listen in class. Then, he would do everything at once; going over his notes five times and highlighting and underlining and proofreading. He'd get a good grade back and stare at it, disappointed. Then, he'd get an okay one, a B or sometimes the odd C, and stare at it, still with the same look. Nothing Lovino did seemed sufficient.

And everything Lovino did drove himself crazy.

They'd be playing a video game and he'd catch Lovino scratching at his jeans, eyes veering towards his backpack in the corner. Antonio would be studying and Lovino would insist on hanging out on Antonio's bed, saying he might study later. He'd scroll through his phone, but his finger would tap the side and his teeth would bite into his lip. When he did study, however, he had to focus on it and only it, lest he look guilty and uncomfortable, playing with the corner of the page in his book or tapping his pencil incessantly.

Antonio tried to distract him from it all - from the constant flux of guilt over disregarding school versus succumbing to the anxiety and his father's oppressive will - but it could be difficult unless he had Lovino's _full_ attention.

It was difficult, to say the least, and frustrating. But one day, Antonio thought he'd figured out a great sort of... middle ground.

"Lovino, could you help me with this?"

Helping Antonio distracted Lovino. He was calm and focused and, when Antonio made jokes, he'd laugh at them, no traces of stress or guilt in his eyes. Tutoring was apparently productive enough, yet far enough away from his own studies that it worked.

And school stuff wasn't where it ended. If Antonio needed help with chores, Lovino would complain, tell him they were _his_ job for a reason, but, in the end, would help, and the anxiety would shed from his skin. If Antonio asked for help with a puzzle in his game, or maybe to clear a level, it might distract Lovino long enough to make him forget whatever chaotic mess his mind had made of it. One night, Antonio asked Lovino to help make dinner, since he wanted it ready when his mom got off her late shift, and they spent hours in the kitchen together.

But there were always the nights too that Lovino didn't come over and Antonio could see the house next door quiet and dark, Lovino's room the only one lit. Antonio made sure to keep his window unlocked constantly (though Lovino always knocked and it was probably not the safest practice). He always hoped that Lovino would stop by at night.

And he did. A lot. Antonio was pretty sure that Lovino had trouble sleeping (a lot more trouble with it than in the past if their frequent late nights were anything to go by), but he was perfectly fine with sharing his bed. He always slept better with Lovino there anyway.

So, yeah, Lovino had changed, but Antonio knew he had too. He didn't claim to be the same and he didn't claim to be alright either. The loss of his father was something he'd had to get use to, to come to terms with and push on through to maintain some semblance of real life. But, Antonio would be lying if he said he wasn't still trying to get through it, still trying to align the man he had known with the one he had never seen in his father.

He still couldn't quite wrap his head around this other person, the one that he would never get to meet now that his father was dead.

"You're always listening to this CD," Lovino commented one night, tucked under Antonio's covers and the quiet sounds of his dad's mixtape caressing the dark room. Antonio chanced a glance towards the player, the green glowing 06 displayed, and smiled something bittersweet.

"It was my dad's," he said. He hadn't told anyone about this CD. Not Gilbert nor Francis. Not even his mom, who it probably rightfully belonged. But, laying there with Lovino on some random weekday night, it was the easiest thing to say and the words fell from his tongue like they belonged to Lovino's ears.

"Really?" Lovino asked softly. Antonio nodded, thinking about it.

"He didn't give it to me," he said at last, and Lovino was silent, listening. "I found it at his house last summer and I saw that it was addressed to my mom. I knew it must have been old, and I was never sure if he knew it was there, but I had to listen to it."

Antonio had thought talking about his dad would be painful, like the one time he had brought it up when they were still meeting at their tree. He remembered that day, how his head spun and tore itself apart, wondering, questioning.

 _Why?_ It had asked. _How can he be gone?_

That had been the day his worst fear had been realized. He'd been thinking about the circumstances of his father's death, shot after standing up for a lady in the street who was being assaulted. The guy who'd shot him had been frightened, hadn't expected anyone to be there, in a lonely alleyway in the dead of night, with the woman. She was supposed to be helpless, defenseless, but then his father had stepped in.

And gotten a bullet for his trouble.

Hearing this, as vague as his mother had attempted in her own distraught, but own protective nature for her son, had been a shock in itself to Antonio. It couldn't have been his dad; they must have made a mistake when identifying the body. His dad wasn't dead. That wasn't the type of thing he'd do.

He had been a good dad, though absent frequently. He'd been good at making Antonio laugh, and always asked all about Antonio's life when he visited or when they called one another. They'd shared so many memories - memories that hadn't left Antonio alone in months. Christmas bacon and TV dinners in front of a baseball game. Going through the CD collection under the TV while his dad pointed out his favorites, ones from his childhood and ones that even reminded him of when Antonio was a kid. A new red truck.

Or maybe a worn soccer ball and games his dad couldn't go to, either at work or across the country. Arguments with his mom. When they'd first moved to New York and Antonio had missed seeing his dad everyday so much. Days his dad was called into work on one of the few days Antonio had to visit.

The knowledge Antonio had come to understand that his father had made a choice one day, work over family.

He hadn't been a perfect father, and to think about his shortcomings after he was gone hurt almost as much as the fact that Antonio would never see him again. Yet, the memories would not leave him alone - every single one demanding for attention, good or bad.

But the memory that haunted him the most was teasing and a near heart attack at the airport. He'd spent more time at his dad's house that summer than he had in a very long time, partially because he had been grounded, and he'd finally thought… thought that maybe...

Maybe his dad was more than Antonio had always made him out to be.

The last time he'd seen him, Antonio had had an old CD of his, full of promises and history. He'd had hopes for perspective - hopes that the summer had been the start of understanding his father better, figuring out the guy under the work and play, always frowning down at a phone or laughing things off. He'd had hopes, ones his father had fueled, of figuring out his own relationships. And he'd had hopes, looking forward to a Christmas in California, not only with his friends, but with his father as well - a father that wasn't so strange to him.

He felt as though he could never forget that memory, every detail seared into his mind for ages to come, yet, when he tried to remember exactly how his father had smiled, had called out to him at the last minute and the heat that crawled up his neck at the embarrassment, he couldn't quite grasp it at all. The memory was a vivid, blurry mess - contradictory in its finest.

Antonio had hoped he was starting to understand, to uncover more about the man with so little and so much to him. He'd had so many hopes. Still, he had been shocked, not simply by his death, but the way it had happened.

Because his father was no hero. Because Antonio couldn't remember him ever putting other people before him like that - certainly not when he'd picked work over his own family.

At the funeral, his mother had spoken. Antonio had felt like a historian then; uncovering a past he would never know, examining it for its contradictions, its flaws, its plausibility. His mom had had so much to say about his dad. It was obvious that they'd both loved each other until the end, divorced and thousands of miles apart.

Still, so much of what she'd said had sounded alien to Antonio's ears. Not once did she say that she loved him, nor did she talk of their marriage a lot, only touching on memories of raising Antonio. But there were so many kind, sweet, thoughtful things, that Antonio had been unable to connect the funeral with the man in its honor.

"He always wanted to protect people. From sadness. From hate. I'm sure he couldn't just stand by when an injustice like that happened in front of his eyes."

Antonio had gone next, but he couldn't remember what he'd said if he tried. That was one memory that didn't haunt him day and night. His father was gone, and Antonio hadn't been able to feel him at all at that funeral. Each memory each person brought to the event was like the dust of broken glass, containing pieces unable to be puzzled back together.

It wasn't until the end when the last person had gone up, someone from his father's work, that the briefest glimpse of familiarity bled through. His dad had been a funny guy at work, apparently, silly and bright, and that was closer to what Antonio remembered.

This woman didn't seem to know his father very well either. He wondered what that meant for him, if they both seemed to remember him the same.

It haunted Antonio, and his own memories plagued his soul, wondering how he could have gotten his own father so wrong all this time. Had he been so unfair? There was no way to make up for it. There was no way to rewind time, to understand his father now. All he could do was pick up the pieces and try to fit them in with the man he'd known.

He regretted that most of all. Every memory- none of them had been his father as he truly was, had they? Antonio would never be able to know that man. Antonio would forever remain stuck in this purgatory, between his own memory and others', unable to align the two men into the single one he truly was.

Then, it was as if a low voice reached down into Antonio's mind, where he'd spiraled to the depths of the Marianas Trench, and gently pulled him up into a dim morning light. Antonio looked into the eyes beside him, resting on a pillow calmly, curiously. The room was still dark, probably still very late, but there was a light only he could see that glowed within it.

"Do you miss him?" Lovino asked, voice soothing in a way Antonio couldn't describe. For a moment, Antonio thought.

His immediate response would have been _Yes. More than yes_. He felt as though he had been robbed of someone he'd never get to know with the loss of his father, that there was so much he would never know, never see. But that wasn't quite what Lovino was asking, was it?

Did he miss his father? _His_ father. Not the friend or the husband or the brother, but the man he had known.

The man he had known had been absent, had put many things before his wife and son, had forgotten to call when he'd said he would and had frustrated Antonio, who rarely ever got frustrated, in a way only someone with similar personalities could.

But he had also made Antonio laugh, embarrassed him by being a good father, encouraged him and listened to him. They'd played soccer in their yard and he'd pull out great bags of marshmallows when they were snowed in and invite Francis and Gilbert to stay for games and hot cocoa.

Now that he was gone, Antonio wouldn't be able to call him up about ridiculous stories from school or throw wrapping paper in his face on Christmas morning or take pictures of him and his team after a game won or of him and Lovino lounging in the grass on a sunny day. He wouldn't hear his voice on the other side of the phone, or see his face scrunch up in faux agitation when wrapping paper hit his cheek, or get a string of "hahahahaha!"s or "congratulations!" in his text messages after the pictures.

Antonio missed a future of a man he didn't quite understand, who he would never truly understand now, yeah, but he would also miss a future of the man he had already known, who had made him feel happy and loved, and who had been very special to him. He didn't have a dad anymore and, for the first time, Antonio allowed himself to realize that. There was a piece dislodged in his heart, and it didn't belong to that regret of having never known his father, but to the regret of never seeing the father he had known again.

Antonio's answer hadn't changed, but, with it, there had come a whole new meaning. "Yes," he responded, eyes focused on nothing, right over Lovino's shoulder. "I miss him."

He thought he saw Lovino nod, just slightly, out of the corner of his eye, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to tell. The room, already dim, was becoming blurrier. He was looking at the sky as he swam up from the bottom of a pool, the ripples distorting his vision.

"Tonio?" Lovino asked and Antonio looked at him. It was too much already though, and he couldn't see his friend. The tears pooled over and, suddenly, he was bawling. He was in his friend's arms in moments, Lovino pressing Antonio close and voicing calming sounds.

"He's gone," Antonio gasped against Lovino's chest, hanging on just as tightly as Lovino - his, a desperate hold.

"I know. I know," Lovino whispered and the words were throw away, the typical thing to say, but within them Antonio found solace. In Lovino's voice, in the emotion and the understanding and the quiet admitted inability to all at once. Lovino didn't understand in full, had never lost anyone like this, but he could try to understand with what he had and hope that the rest could be forgiven. Antonio appreciated him more than words could ever explain for that.

For the first time since his dad had died, Antonio allowed himself to find that solace in someone else, allowed his tears to soak into another person's shoulder, allowed himself to feel all that he had denied himself for months. He felt the loss carve into his chest like it never had before. But, with that, Antonio felt something else.

That deep cavern of loss was realized by him now and, in feeling it, he understood it better. He understood a future that was still possible to him.

In that future, there was the promise of healing.

* * *

 ** _CV: Happy two-year anniversary of this fic! My slow update schedule is good for one thing, I guess lmao. We reached a cool milestone._**

 ** _I'm done with deadline goals since my past two didn't work out. Just two more chapters, but it might take two more years at the rate I'm going at hahaha. This fic is still fun, and a lot more fun since I've stopped putting so much pressure on myself for it, so I promise it will be completed. One day, my friends. One day._**

 ** _Thank you so much anyone still reading and I hope you enjoyed the update! See ya when I see ya!_**


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